


The Value in a Name

by Sleepless_in_Starbucks



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Agender Logic | Logan Sanders, Alternate Universe - Fae, Bigender Deceit Sanders, Eventual Happy Ending, Eye Trauma, Genderfluid Sleep | Remy Sanders, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Kinda, M/M, Panic Attacks, Past Abuse Mention, Swearing, Sympathetic Deceit Sanders, but no one named, it's not that bad just bewarned, queerplatonic loceit, techincally deaths, the author takes a very different approach to fae lore, the eye itself is mostly fine, though beware
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-19
Updated: 2019-12-18
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:08:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 27,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21853462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sleepless_in_Starbucks/pseuds/Sleepless_in_Starbucks
Summary: He knew it was stupid, running to the fae for help. But Virgil had no where else to run to, and if the only help he could find was going to be in a mischievous creatures of the woods, so be it.After all, how much could trading away his name really cost him?
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Sleep | Remy Sanders, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders/Logic | Logan Sanders/Morality | Patton Sanders, Logic | Logan Sanders & Deceit Sanders
Comments: 152
Kudos: 303
Collections: Sanders Sides Secret Santa 2019





	1. Desperation and Dead Flowers

No mortal had been foolish enough to step into his ring in  _ months _ .

It was a consequence of the times, Remy supposed- not that mortals were getting smarter, just that they were getting more wary. Even an idiot could identify a circle of barren ground ringed in mushrooms that looked meek but was oh so very sinister, and even small children knew not to dance through one.

Bully for them. Remy, however, hated it. Life without trickery and entrapments was dull, and there were only so many times he could fool his sibling.

Which was why, when he realized there was a mortal in his ring, he was there within a blink. It wasn’t like he had been doing anything important anyway. Well, maybe Roman would have thought disappearing in the middle of their conversation was a tad bit rude. But that sounded like a Roman problem.

Remy had been expecting to find many kinds of mortals waiting for him, from shifty ones with ill intentions all the way down the spectrum to lost ones just looking for a path home. He was not, however, expecting in any way who he found.

The mortal standing in his fairy ring most certainly hadn’t stepped in there by mistake, evidenced by their position in the dead center of the brown and white mushrooms, interlaced with small, inviting wildflowers. That wasn’t anything unusual.

What was unusual was the way they stood, hunched over themselves and swaying in place, looking as if they’d much rather be sitting down. Their head was bent as well; tangled, greasy black hair hanging over their face and hiding their eyes from him.

To top it all off was the desperation that was practically rolling off of the mortal, almost overwhelming Remy. Mortals hadn’t come to him in desperation in centuries- issues of such grave matter and ugly worry were addressed to family, friends, the local apothecary if necessary. Not the fae, not dangerous tricksters who worked best when you were at your worst.

“Mortal.” Remy said after a moment of examining them, the mortal having not reacted since Remy had appeared. At the word, however, they twitched; head almost tilting up high enough to look before falling back down, shuffling their feet. Remy tilted his own head to the side, confusion mingling with intrigue. “This is no place for you.”

The mortal’s reaction was foreign as well- a stark laugh that sounded harsh and pained. “Nowhere is.”

“And so you come to find belonging in my ring?” Remy asked, chuckling himself. “Honey, there are better places to run to.”

“No, there aren’t.” The mortal replied, tucking their arms around their stomach and squeezing, pulling further in on themself.

Remy raised an eyebrow. “What have you come for? Or, a better start, might I have your name, darling?”

It was the oldest trick in the book, one better known than fairy circles themselves. Remy asked it more out routine than the belief it would actually work.

“You want my name?” The mortal asked, and Remy prepared for a fake answer, a carefully phrased ‘call me x,’ the name being one most clearly not theirs. “Take it.”

Even though Remy knew the mortal couldn't see him, he fought to keep his shock out of his expression at the response. “Mo-”

“Virgil Valentine Wylde. You may have my name, and it is Virgil Valentine Wylde.” They said, the truth to it as real as the tingle of power it carried with it. Virgil winced a bit, clearly understanding the dangerous exchange he had made, but pushing on despite it, “I am here so that I might not be here.”

“Word games are tricky things here, Virgil.” Remy said, not helping the slight feeling of satisfaction he got from seeing Virgil twitch at the sound of his name, even if he regretted it almost the second after it had come. “You’ve been foolish in coming here, and you’ve been foolish in giving me your name. The least you can do is articulate  _ why _ .”

“I meant what I said.” Virgil responded defensively, before adding, his voice a mix of annoyed and frightened, “I just- I need to get away from here. Anywhere you’ll take me- I don’t care, it just has to be far, far away from this forest; from this town.”

Remy frowned. “Anywhere?” He repeated. With phrasing like that he could drop Virgil in the middle of the ocean. “It may benefit you to be a least a little more specific.”

“I-” Virgil stopped before he had hardly begun his response, interrupted by the distant but approaching sound of leaves crackling. Remy could tell it wasn’t any animal, the steps crushing the leaves heavy and fast- the telltale sign of running humans. Remy ought to know- he had sent many running himself.

“I fear our time is quickly reaching its end, doll.” Remy said, bristling at the thought of his first proper deal in too long being cut so short. “Who have you brought with you? Family? Hunters?” 

Virgil didn’t respond and Remy’s anger only flared at the thought that he had fallen for such a simple trick. Most mortals understood the stupidity in hunting fae, but he supposed there were always exceptions. “Maybe I’ll make you  _ dance _ for them.”

Virgil reacted to this, head finally jerking fully up in fear, looking towards Remy with eyes blown wide in terror- a fear that, Remy realized with a distracted sort of horror, had nothing to do with himself. Instead of his eyes, however, Remy’s attention was drawn to just beneath them, where a black, inky substance was spilling over his bottom eyelids and running down his face.

“Please!” Virgil yelled, startling Remy enough that he took a step back. “You have to get me out of here before they find us!”

“I- I-” Remy found himself speechless, still focused on the stains beneath Virgil’s eyes. The sounds of the humans were closer, the snap of branches ringing through the woods alongside faint cries that were steadily getting louder.

“Please!” Virgil repeated, trying to take a step closer to Remy and falling instead, his legs buckling so quickly Remy didn’t know how he had been standing a minute ago. His hands hit the ground as well, leaving him nearly prostrate before Remy. Virgil didn’t try to get back up, remaining against the forest floor as he rambled, “Please, please I can’t- they can’t find me- can’t go back- please, please- can’t be here- please-”

Remy remained, almost frozen, standing over Virgil for a moment in shock and mild horror. Begging? Begging?! He hadn’t heard begging in decades, and normally it came from those trying to cheat him in deals. 

But Virgil had already handed over everything. Virgil wasn’t begging to save himself- he was begging for the trap to be pulled, begging for Remy to do anything that got him away.

The voices were getting louder, Virgil’s pleas too, before Remy snapped out of his stupor. He crouched down so that he was once more on level with Virgil, reaching forward to tilt the mortal’s chin up, forcing him to look at Remy. He searched Virgil’s expression, looking for any tell that Virgil was no victim.

But all he found was panic, panic of the mere mortals pounding their way towards them with each second that passed. Virgil had begun to tremble, but Remy could tell it wasn’t because of him. With that alone he knew this was no game. 

No mortal, be it man or beast, had ever seen him and not been filled with a primal fear of the ethereal daggers that his every word and action promised; had never been so utterly frightened of something else that they couldn’t spare a passing alarm at Remy. Remy had no notion as to what the humans must have done to break Virgil like this, but he did know one thing, a burst of fury shooting through him at the mere thought: he hated them.

Gently, Remy’s fingers slipped up from his chin to cup Virgil’s face. “Rest, now, Virgil.” Remy said quietly, moving forward as Virgil’s eyes immediately fluttered shut and his body went limp. With an ease that only had a small part to do with how light Virgil was, Remy stood, Virgil securely cradled against his chest. 

He didn’t leave, however, waiting beside his circle as the sound of the chasing humans approached, only getting louder. He could hear their words now, could hear venomous tones ordering people to split up, looking for ‘the boy,’ colourful descriptions of what would happen when he was found only furthering the fire that had begun to burn in Remy’s veins.

By the time they reached the clearing Remy was ready to fry them on the spot. It was his clearing, after all, deep within the woods he occupied, and they were most certainly not welcome there.

But even as he stood off against them, exchanging glares with them, he didn’t forget the weight in his arms. Remy knew that, while he could keep Virgil perfectly safe while he… dealt with these intruders, Virgil didn’t just need security right now. He needed to actually be taken care of, preferably as soon as possible.

So instead of making a move, Remy settled with memorizing the faces before him, ingraining them in his memory. There would be plenty of time for revenge later, and he had no plans to let a single one of them to miss out.

But for now, he left, watching the group of humans even as the woods bent and swallowed him and Virgil whole, leaving them only with the silent trace of his presence and a sudden sprout of dead wildflowers around their feet.


	2. Guest Rights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Virgil really didn't expect to wake up  
> He almost wished he didn't

Virgil didn’t think he’d wake up.

The fae’s tone when they held Virgil’s face had been too soft to be genuine, the look of worry directed at Virgil mixed with one of subdued anger focused elsewhere too different from how they had looked at him earlier to be real, their words too gentle to mean anything good for Virgil.

Not that Virgil had cared. Faux concern was better than open disgust. Misleadingly sweet touches were preferred to cruel damaging ones. Forced rest was still rest.

And if he rested forever, so be it. Wasn’t his problem anymore, was it?

Virgil wasn’t sure if he was disappointed or relieved when he ended up awakening.

He came to quicker than he would have liked, peaceful all-encompassing darkness at some point giving way to murky figures, rooms with no exits, and an oozing sense of ill-will all about him. The nightmares were nothing new, but it didn’t stop Virgil from shooting into a sitting position, breathing erratic as he fought down the urge to try and choke himself on air. Instead, he forced himself to go through calm patterns, counting his breaths until they were even.

Calmer, Virgil sighed. He was sick of nightmares. Sick of stupid dreams promising him escape, only to plunge him into horrors, as if they were unique or clever. Sick of thinking he had finally-

Virgil blinked, finally taking in his surroundings. This wasn’t his ‘room.’ His ‘room’ had unforgiving stone walls, dirty floors, completely empty save a broken cot and cracked chamber pot. His ‘room’ was cold and dark and lifeless.

Wherever he was seemed to be the exact opposite of all that- the room was lit up from all directions despite Virgil not seeing any candles, brightening the rich, vibrant colours that seemed to make up every surface. Furniture was arranged around the entire space, bookcases against walls holding objects Virgil had never seen before, chairs facing him covered in plush fabric; even the floor looked nice, made not of stone but some soft padded material instead.

His confusion at where he was began to fade as he thought back to his nightmare, realizing it might not have been as long as he thought, parts not as fake as he had assumed. Which meant he had escaped, that he had run to the forest, that he had-

The fae’s home. That was the only explanation. Virgil was in the home of the fae he had more or less given his entire will to.

Virgil’s breath hitched at the thought, but he forced the surge of anxiety back down. This was his choice. And the alternative… he knew the alternative was worse. As if on cue, he felt the skin underneath his eyes burn, and he bit back a cry. He would have rubbed at it, but he knew upsetting the stains would simply worsen them. Virgil was just happy it wasn’t dripping down his face anymore.

Lost in his thoughts and pains, Virgil didn’t notice anyone enter the room until there was someone coughing discreetly into their hand, pulling Virgil’s attention away from his ruminations.

Immediately, Virgil knew the being was a fae. They were unnaturally tall (though their height was closer to possibly natural than the other fae’s), with golden skin that could have passed as tan were it not for the fact that it was faintly glowing. Their eyes were piercing- one black and one gold, the latter surrounded by the scales that covered the left side of their face, a mix of dark ink ones that seemed to stain their skin and ones that stood out instead, undeniably real.

Their refined appearance clashed with their outfit; dark, lumpy clothes that gave them a general shape more akin to a blob than a fae. A black, formless hat with a band of yellow was pulled over their head and failing to completely contain their curly black hair. The nearly human-like features and casual get-up almost made Virgil wonder if they were just another human- if Virgil had really met the fae in those woods or if he, weak and delusional, had simply been saved by them.

But regardless of their appearance, there was a look in the being’s eyes that told Virgil everything. It was dangerous, it was powerful, and it was inhuman. It was fae.

“Who are you?” The fae finally spoke, sounding annoyed and disgusted, as if he already knew perfectly well the answer.

“I am… a being.” Virgil answered vaguely. He had already given away his name once, and once was enough for a lifetime. “Who are  _ you _ ?”

“You’re human.” The fae stated, ignoring Virgil’s question.

Virgil couldn’t resist the urge to roll his eyes. “No, I’m a unicorn.” He spat, well aware of the stupidity of showing such blatancy to a fae. He knew he was already doomed to fairyland forever, though, so what did he really care if he pissed off a few of the inhabitants?

The fae’s brow furrowed, anger flashing across their features, and for the sake of his dignity alone Virgil fought off the new urge to beg the other for forgiveness. He had done enough begging to last the rest of his life (however short it might be at this point).

“I am not a being to be fooled with.” The fae warned, voice low, taking a step closer to Virgil. “Who. Are. You?”

Virgil ignored the jump his pulse made with every step closer the fae got, swallowing back the instinctual fear response to instead look the fae down his mismatched eyes and answer, “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Anger morphed into fury and Virgil couldn’t stop himself from shrinking back from the fae, pressing against the couch as if he could phase through it and get a decent amount of distance between them. They got as close to the couch as they could, bending over to stare Virgil down with barely an inch of space between them. The fae’s eyes drifted across Virgil’s face, reading his expression as if they could read his life story while they were at it.

“You didn’t end up here by accident or purpose of your own.” The fae said after a moment, once more straightening up and glancing towards one end of the room. “Which means you were brought here by…” The fae trailed off as if they had lost their train of thought, though Virgil guessed they just didn’t want him to know who they were thinking of. 

The fae stepped away from the couch, though Virgil remained pressed against it. They began to cross the room in the direction they had glanced, pausing briefly when they reached what, to Virgil, appeared to be a random outcropping of the wall. They looked back at Virgil, untrusting.

“Stay still.” They ordered. Virgil would have opened his mouth to respond, but he found that he couldn’t. His worry only spiked when he realized that seemed to apply to everything- his limbs refused to so much as budge despite his attempts to move them, his entire body stiff and unmoving.

Distracted by his new condition, Virgil just barely noticed as the fae called for another, movement on the side of his vision soon coming to center as the fae returned to the middle of the room, the fae from the ring beside them.

Virgil’s fae looked different, however- in the ring, the fae had appeared almost blindingly bright, the pink glow they gave off the colour of sunsets but as bright as the sun itself. They had been dressed in white, flowing robes that reflected the fae’s light, only adding to the ethereal air that surrounded the fae.

Now, however, they seemed entirely casual. They were still glowing, but it was subdued now, the light coating the immediate surrounding air and not much else. Instead of flowing robes, they were wearing form-fitting pants that seemed to be made of a tough, dark blue material and a brown leather jacket that covered a glittering half-shirt that didn’t cover any of the fae’s midsection.

The minor shock of the fae’s changed appearance managed to pull Virgil back to his senses enough to tune back into what they were saying.

“-doing here!” The fae with a scale-covered face was almost hissing at Virgil’s fae.

“I brought him here, duh.” Virgil’s fae responded, sounding tired. “How else do you think he got here, D-”

“Don’t!” The scale-faced fae said, glancing over at Virgil as they stopped the other from finishing their sentence. “It might hear you!”

“Whether or not  _ he _ hears me doesn’t matter that much, don’t you think?” Virgil’s fae responded, gesturing at Virgil. “He’s hardly a powerful being. Not to mention how quiet he’s been so far- does it look like he’s planning any-” Virgil’s fae trailed off, now looking over at Virgil. Their eyes, which had been sharp and bright, the color of rich honey and melting gold, were hidden now behind blacked out glasses, but the frown that slowly formed on their face revealed their feelings to Virgil anyways.

“Why isn’t he moving?” Virgil’s fae asked the other, suddenly reminding Virgil the other fae’s command, and his following immobility. With the reminder came renewed fear, the faes’ voices fading out of hearing as he once more struggled to control the one thing he still could- his breathing.

Distantly, Virgil was aware the fae were still talking, snippets passing in and out of his hearing, but they weren’t comforting.

“-he’s panicking-”

“-make him stop-”

“-doesn’t work like that-”

“-what I can do-”

“Unfreeze him!”

Virgil suddenly felt a little lighter, as if some unseen weight had released him, but he didn’t focus on it much. His breathing was still erratic, and he could feel his pulse not only in his wrist and neck but in his head, pounding like a blood rush. He didn’t know when he had closed his eyes, but he had, squeezing them shut tight enough to block out any and all light.

Something landed on Virgil’s knee and he flinched backwards, eyes flying open as his shoulders dug even further into the couch. His fae was crouched in front of him, shaded glasses now missing, their brow furrowed in what Virgil almost mistook for genuine concern.

Which was impossible, it had to be. Why would a fae be honestly concerned about a human?

Virgil couldn’t dwell on the thought too long, his fae once more taking his attention as they raised their hands, the bejeweled rings that covered almost all their fingers reflecting their pink glow. They held their hands up so that Virgil could see them, keeping them far enough away from Virgil that the fae couldn’t grab him without fair warning.

“Alright, no touching, got it.” They said, voice placating. In the back of his mind, Virgil wondered why they even bothered. “You can move now. Does that… does that help?” They continued, uncertain.

Virgil didn’t respond at first. If he was being perfectly honest, he didn’t know how to respond- did that help? Did it make this better? Could his current situation ever get better?

But the ‘concern’ on his fae’s face was increasing with every second he didn’t answer, and Virgil had just enough of his wits left about him to recognize that upsetting the mystical being he had freely handed his name over to was a horrible idea. Virgil managed to force a nod, even if the action was jerky.

The fae’s frown deepened. “Are you nodding because you mean it, or because you’re worried about annoying me?”

Virgil’s breath caught in his throat once more, something that had really been happening too much recently. The voice in his head refused to drop the idea that Virgil had to do whatever he could to appease the fae, and in the moment he couldn’t figure out which part of his mind was saying that- present or past- but the one thing he was certain of was the once more rising flood of panic.

He had nodded, right, that was the correct thing to do, it said he was fine and okay; what else would the fae want out of him? Why would the fae care about whether or not he was really fine as long as he nodded and acted like he was? Was the nod unconvincing? Should he smile? What did the fae want? What if they wanted something inhuman, just to taunt Virgil with the idea that he could ever appease them when that was just an impossible fantasy, unreachable, trapping him down here in the nightmare of uncertainty and no answers and-

“Hey, hey! It’s alright! Please don’t start panicking again!” His fae was speaking to him again, and Virgil only managed to pay attention because maybe this would be it, maybe they’d give him an answer, something he could just do so they’d be happy with him. The fae looked almost more alamared then he felt, and if Virgil didn’t know that the fae wouldn’t actually care about him, he would have said the expression was too intense to be faked.

But the fae were masters of illusion, of trickery and lies. Faking an expression would be easy, Virgil just wanted to know why his fae felt the need to act concerned for him. Virgil knew they weren’t! So why would they pretend?

Was this all just a game; a cruel, twisted game devised for the faes’ amusement, watching him slowly go mad with uncertainty and paranoia, never sure of what was genuine and not, trapped forever in confusion and lies and-

“Really, V- babes, can you work with me here?” His fae was speaking again, their hands still visible but no longer held up as they twisted their fingers and their rings. “I don’t think all this panicking is good for humans.”

“It’s not.” The fae with scales said dryly, from where they remained far behind Virgil’s fae. They sneered a little, distrustingly, as they added, “It’s not normal either.”

Though the other fae clearly meant their remark suspiciously, Virgil’s fae took it as further proof of their own point.

“Yeah! Not good  _ and _ not normal.” They said, not noticing the scale-faced fae’s frown as they continued, “I don’t want you to be panicking. Is there something I can do to help you stop panicking?”

Virgil blinked at the fae. They wanted him to stop panicking? Understandable; panicky victims were less fun to play with.

The fae wanted to… help him get less panicky? Without just commanding it? Not understandable. At all.

Regardless, Virgl’s fae said they wanted to do that, and Virgil wasn’t dumb enough to not give a fae what they wanted. Trying not to sound too pathetic, between his still too-fast wheezes of breath, Virgl managed to choke out, “Count.”

“Count?” The fae repeated. Virgil nodded. “Count to a hundred, or ten, or just for forever, or…?”

Virgil tried to answer verbally, but he found his throat too closed off for that, and instead started splaying his fingers out across his knees, hoping the fae would understand what he couldn’t say.

“Four-seven-eight? You want me to count in four-seven-eight circles?” The fae confirmed, and Virgl nodded again.

The fae (thankfully) didn’t question it, instead simply launching into counting. Their tone was smooth and calming, their pace steady and consistent. It took Virgil more tries then he would’ve liked to match his breaths with the count, but after a couple of re-iterations of the loop, he had managed to get his breathing back to being stable.

Virgl’s fae noticed as he started to relax a bit, stiff muscles loosening just enough to let him sink into the couch. They repeated the count twice more, clearly wanting to be sure, but when Virgil started to fidget with his fingers, no longer having to take breaths through his mouth, they let the numbers trail off.

“You good now?” They asked. “For real. Don’t lie to me.”

Despite their voice being devoid of the snap Virgil felt should have accompanied that statement, he still flinched at it. “I’m fine.” He responded bluntly, fully aware he was bordering on being disrespectful with that tone.

To his shock, the fae smirked at that. “Sounds like it.” They said, standing up from where they had been kneeled in front of him. As they stood, Virgil was reminded of how much taller than him they were, easily towering over him by a full foot or so. They turned to the other fae.

“Does that look like someone capable of overpowering one of us?” They snarked, waving a hand at Virgil. The scale-faced fae looked at Virgil once more, their frown growing when Virgil glared at them.

“You’re too trusting.” They replied, once more looking at Virgil’s fae.

“I have his entire name.” Virgil’s fae responded, crossing their arms. “I’m not the too-trusting one here.”

“I don’t trust you.” Virgil suddenly spoke up, gaining the faes’ attention. He bunched up a wad of his shirt in a fist, but he didn’t look away from them or try to take it back.

His fae laughed. “Good call, hun.”

“Hun?”

“Would you prefer I use your name?” Virgl’s fae asked, though they didn’t sound threatening, just amused.

Virgil let the matter drop. “Fine, then. Should I call you ‘hun’ too?”

“If you want to.” Virgil’s fae invited with a grin. “But Remy’ll probably work better.”

“What are you doing!?”

Remy kept looking at Virgil, grin only growing as they jerked a finger over their shoulder. “The lovely fellow over there has a fifty-fifty chance of answering to Deceit.”

Virgil snorted. “Their name’s Deceit?”

“No, but I think he’d kill the both of us if I told you what her name really is.” Remy confided, Deceit looking ready to kill them both already. “He’s got a thing about names.”

“As should you!” Deceit snapped, stomping his way across the small space between her and Remy, pointing accusingly at Virgil, who was still harmlessly slumped against the couch. “He’s a human stranger!”

“He’s a human guest.” Remy responded, Deceit recoiling with an expression of disgust at their words. “He should know the name’s- or, at the very least, terms- he can call his hosts by.”

“Invoking guest rights? Really?” Deceit asked in annoyance.

“Well, I wasn’t sure I’d need to do that.” Remy said, before continuing knowingly, “But that was before I found my guest frozen in place against his will. So, yes, I am invoking guest rights.”

Deceit huffed. “I came into  _ my _ house only to find a snarky stranger on the couch. What did you want me to do? Invite him to a tea party?”

“That would’ve been nice, yes.” Remy agreed before looking back at Virgil, as if suddenly struck with a thought. “Speaking of, are you hungry? You look hungry. I’mma go get you something to eat.”

“You’re getting to be as bad as the resident gay disaster.” Deceit said, rolling her eyes as Remy walked away from them, presumably headed off to find Virgil food that he wasn’t quite sure he should eat.

“Oh, like you’re one to talk!” Remy called back. “Unless, of course, I have somehow forgotten the species of  _ your _ partner.”

Deceit blushed- his cheek dusted red while her real scales briefly changed colour to reflect the colouring as well. “That is an entirely different situation!”

“Oh, really?” Remy taunted alongside the sound of various drawers opening and closing. “How so?”

“I didn’t go off searching the mortal world for cuties and I didn’t end up bringing them back.” Deceit said, mindlessly pushing a stray hair back under her odd hat. “And it is not a crime to act if I happen to realize one of said stolen cuties is… nice.”

“Honey at this point I don’t think ‘nice’ covers it.” Remy said as they came back into the room, carrying what looked like a dented loaf of bread. “Unless you like to rant late into many, many nights about the intellect and personality and eye colour of everyone you find ‘nice.’”

Deceit crossed his arms poutily. “You are distracting from the point.”

“Which is?”

“That you shouldn’t just take humans home because you think they’re cute.” Deceit answered, side-eyeing Virgil. “Though how you find this one visually pleasing is beyond me.”

“The fact that I think he’s- I mean,” Remy flinched, cutting off their own words. They hesitated before continuing, clicking their tongue before cautiously continuing, “The fact that he has facial features some may consider to be ‘cute’ does not necessitate that I too find him cute. But that’s besides the point anyway.”

“Is it really?” Deceit asked, smirking, and Remy scowled at her.

“Look at him, Dee.” Remy said, gesturing with their free hand at Virgil, who was starting to wonder how many times he was going to be referred to but not talked to. “Why do you think I brought him back here?”

Deceit didn’t actually bother to look at Virgil. “I can reasonably guess why one might bring him back. But you… you don’t do that.”

Remy sighed. “Not normally, no.”

“Then why-”

“Later.” Remy cut Deceit off with a wave of their free hand. “I’ll tell you about it later.”

Deceit looked annoyed at being put to the side, but she didn’t say anything else as Remy turned their attention back to Virgil, smiling. Their shaded glasses were back on, but this close up Virgil could still see their eyes sparkling from behind them.

Remy offered the bread to Virgil. “I, uh, I’m not sure how much of my food is ‘human friendly,’ but I keep this on hand just in case. And because this is, sadly, a shared house that Deceit over there can invite whoever he wants into it-”

“You and I both know that the real problem is the resident gay disaster.”

“-a little bit of human food is a good thing to have around.” Remy finished ignoring Deceit’s comment. When Virgil just stared at the proffered loaf distrustfully, Remy chuckled. “It’s not poisoned or nuthin’. Wouldn’t be a lot of point in that, would there?”

Virgil didn’t make any move for a moment, trying to determine the likelihood of the fae’s words holding truth. Eventually, however, he decided that even if he didn’t trust Remy, he did trust in the faes’ universal desire for… prolonged trickery. There wouldn’t be any point in poisoning the bread because there wouldn’t be any  _ fun _ in it either.

That in mind, Virgil hesitantly accepted the bread, tearing off a bit of it and slowly chewing on it. It tasted fine, aside from the fact that the crust was clearly burnt, but he didn’t try to go any faster, even despite the twisting of his stomach when it realized it might actually get to digest something substantial for the first time in too long.

Remy’s smile dropped a bit, and for a moment Virgil considered if he should actually be trying to swallow the bread in one bite, but Remy was waving at him as if they had sensed the thought and didn’t agree with it.

“Have as much of that as  _ you _ want.” They said. “Just not too fast. Or too slow.” They paused for a second, frowning at themself before adding, “Just eat at normal human speeds.”

“We humans don’t have normal eating speeds.” Virgil deadpanned, swallowing his first bite and starting to tear off another from the loaf.

“Then just don’t eat at a rate which’ll make you choke.” Remy amended.

“You’re a real humans expert.” Virgil responded sarcastically.

“I am not!” Remy replied, and Virgil couldn’t tell if they knew he’d been joking or not. “Which is why as soon as you’ve finished munching your bread we’re going to go see a human expert.”

At this, Deceit jerked his head up from where she had been tugging pointlessly at his sleeves. “You don’t mean-”

“Who else would I be referring to? The third prince charming?” Remy asked.

“I suppose it’s possible that’s who you’re referring to, yes.” Deceit defended. “But I have the strong suspicion that’s incorrect.”

“Trust your suspicions.” Remy advised. “Besides, you’re overlooking the benefits of my plan.”

“Them being, what, I ‘get out of the house?’” Deceit mocked.

“Nah.” Remy dismissed her lightly before smirking at him. “You get to see them.”

Deceit didn’t respond for a moment before sighing moodily. “I should hate you.”

“But you don’t. Now go get changed. I want to leave soon, and I know you’re going to refuse to leave in that.” Remy said casually.

Deceit huffed, but he did leave, heading off in the direction she had gone in after he had frozen Virgil. Virgil was able to watch her go this time, the fae disappearing up a staircase that clearly lead to an upper level of the house.

“Why is he getting changed?” Virgil asked, still tearing little pieces off of the loaf even if he wasn’t eating them straight-away. “Is that outfit not, uh, decent to be publicly seen in?”

Remy laughed, an unexpected reaction that Virgil jumped at. “Oh, darling, you’re hilarious. ‘Round these parts you could go out  _ naked  _ and no one’ld bat an eye.”

“Then why change…?”

“Because Deceit has an unhealthy obsession with looking as charming as he thinks she acts.” Remy answered lightly. “Plus, as you’ll soon see, he really likes looking nice for her partner.”

Virgil nodded, not necessarily in agreement so much as it was simply something to do, to prove he had been listening. He was vaguely concerned as to what partner could mean here- did it even carry the same connotations as it did where Virgil was from- but he ignored it for the moment in favor of what he decided was the more important question.

“Hey, Remy?” Virgil started before flinching at himself- why did he use their  _ name _ of all things, just because he knew it didn’t mean he should use it-

“Yeah, sweetcheeks?” Remy replied, seemingly oblivious to Virgil’s internal turmoil, though there was a hint of a frown in their smile that made Virgil think otherwise. What mattered to Virgil, however, was that they didn’t seem concerned with the use of their name, and Virgil allowed himself to let out a breath he didn’t realize he had been holding.

“I noticed, uh, that with Deceit, you’ve been going between he-she, and his-her, and, um, y’know,” Virgil wasn’t entirely sure how to finish his question, instead just gesturing in a manner he hoped conveyed  _ what should I call you by so that you won’t just casually smite me on the spot at some point _ .

The hint of Remy’s frown disappeared in an instant, Remy’s smile turning into something bigger and more genuine. “Awww, you care!” They said, their tone a mix of teasing and truly touched. “Here.” They continued, reaching inside of their jacket and removing a plain, colourless strip of fabric.

“What is it?” Virgil questioned, frowning at the fabric, confused as to how it could help him or answer his original question.

“Something you have no obligation to keep, treat well, or treasure. If you throw this away the moment it’s yours, I will not be insulted, nor take any action against you.” Remy said, tone solemn. They reached out and took of one Virgil’s hands, careful to be gentle and slow as they extended it outwards, palm up. They placed the fabric in Virgil’s hand and curled his fingers around it, finishing with, “It is a gift freely given and therefore a gift freely used.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“No. Just an assurance.” Remy told him, smiling. “Not good to take possibly tricky gifts from the fae.”

“That’s… yeah, that’s true.” Virgil agreed, running a finger across the fabric distractedly. It was smooth. Cool. Oddly comforting. “Can I know what it means now?”

“Because I’m too good to be confined to one gender and/or pronouns, they have a tendency to change. This’ll keep you updated on that.” Remy explained simply.

Virgil failed to hold back an eye roll. “It’s just some cloth, how could it-”

Halfway through his mocking, Virgil lifted the fabric into sight. He was caught off-guard when he realized it was no longer colourless and now instead a brilliant rainbow of colours, meshing and blending into each other.

Remy chuckled as Virgil rolled the fabric between his fingers, now enamored with the reflective, shimmering hues. “It’s magic, that’s how.”

“I-” Virgil snorted, a hand immediately rising to cover his mouth and stifle it. “I should’ve guessed, huh?”

“Probably.”

Virgil flipped the cloth over, finding the other side to be identical to the first. “So, what, I’m supposed to call you rainbow?”

“You can call me anything you want, sugar.” Remy replied, before almost rushing on to continue, “but, uh, that normally has pronouns on it. I just don’t care right now, so… rainbow.”

Virgil nodded, still running a thumb over the cloth, the loaf of bread now sitting on his lap all but forgotten. “What should I do with it?”

Remy shrugged. “Anything. I have no say as to how you choose to treat a gift freely given. I’d suggest just tucking it in a pocket, but I’m not sure if you have any.”

“I don’t.”

Remy nodded and clicked their tongue. “Yeah… speaking of clothes, can I- may I freely gift you some new ones? No offense, but yours are…”

“Rags?” Virgil offered. Remy nodded again. Virgil rolled his shoulders uncomfortably. “You can give me whatever you want.”

“I am aware.” Remy responded patiently. “But all that I want is to make sure you’re comfortable. If you’re going to be comfortable in those clothes, I don’t want you to change. But if you’re uncomfortable, any clothes I can offer you are freely offered to you.”

Virgil didn’t reply immediately, not sure what to say. What he wanted? He wanted the powerful fae who by all rights owned him to be happy. But all that fae said they wanted was  _ his _ happiness, or comfort, or whatever.

Of course, it all could be some sort of trick, but… fae can’t lie. If Remy said the only thing they wanted was Virgil’s comfort, then…

“New clothes, uh… new clothes would be nice.” Virgil admitted quietly. Sure it was a risk- there could be trickery at play, just below the surface of what seemed to be simple truths and questions- but Virgil had the irrationally hopeful feeling that there wasn’t.

Remy smiled. “Great. I’ll show you my wardrobe in a moment, just… another question, if I may?”

“Ask away.”

Remy twirled their fingers underneath their eyes. “Those… stains. What are they?”

Virgil looked down swiftly, trying to hide the referenced markings, even though he knew Remy had already seen plenty of them. “They’re nothing. Just… just nothing.”

“...Alright. If you say so.” Remy said slowly, and Virgil let out a little breath of relief when the fae didn’t push. “Do you want them?”

“What do you mean?” Virgil asked in confusion, face still down, too self-conscious of the stains as they burned, the attention he now had focused on them only fueling the pain.

“Exactly what I said.” Remy responded. “I mean- I’m fae. Magic and all that. If you want them gone-”

“No!” Virgil cried out, suddenly, looking up to find Remy had jerked back, startled. Virgil immediately crumpled back in on himself. “Sorry, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to yell, I just- please. Please leave them alone.”

“I- I won’t touch them.” Remy said, slowly, uncertainty, but they said it, and that was what mattered. “Without your permission, I swear, I won’t do anything with them.”

“Thank-thank you.” Virgil mumbled, focusing on his bread, picking at it repeatedly, as if the action alone could comfort him.

He tried not to jerk too much when there was suddenly a hand beneath his chin, lightly cupping his face. He didn’t bother to try and resist when it tipped his head up, forcing him to look at Remy. They had lost their darkened glasses once more, eyes pitying and searching and worried.

“I don’t know what happened to you in the mortal world.” Remy said, softly, gently, sincerely. “But you’re safe here. I’m not going to let anything else hurt you.”

Virgil gave a mini shake of his head in response, because that sounded nice, and that was the problem, it was  _ too _ nice, too sweet and kind and good to be real, and he didn’t think he could survive whatever was to become of this, of him, of his deal here in fairyland if it was littered with false hope. “You can’t promise that.”

“Watch me.” Remy responded, no hint of a smile or jest in their expression, jaw set, the hold on Virgil’s chin still light and, dare Virgil say it,  _ comforting _ , as they remained staring him right in the eyes.

No lies.

No tricks.

No empty promises.

And, if only for a split second, Virgil wondered just how false that hope was.


	3. The Gays

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not every fae is human friendly...

“You wear weird clothes.”

Remy chuckled. “Technically, we all wear weird clothes.”

“It’s not my fault you don’t own anything normal.” Virgil threw back, tugging at his sleeves. It wasn’t that the clothes weren’t uncomfortable- compared to what he had been wearing, his new outfit seemed to be made out of clouds- but that didn’t change the fact that they were very much not normal, by human standards at least.

The pants were similar to the ones Deceit had been wearing, baggy but not so loose that Virgil couldn’t wear them. The shirt was overly simple, black and roughly in the shape of a ‘t.’ Remy said they only owned it to wear under other things, and that they were surprised Virgil was going so bland when they had such a wonderful selection.

Virgil had told Remy he liked his shirts to actually cover his stomach, something the majority of Remy’s tops did not do. Remy had feigned hurt and told Virgil to get a decent sense of fashion. Virgil asked Remy if they even knew what that looked like, and there was a fairly high chance they could have gone back and forth all afternoon if Deceit hadn’t told them to shut up and get dressed already, which had only prompted Remy into asking Deceit just how long, exactly, did she spend getting ready?

The fact that Deceit refused to admit the truth of forty-seven minutes out loud made it no less true.

Virgil wasn’t one hundred percent sure where they were going, but he did know who they were off to see- some human expert. Virgil would have told them that he’d consider himself a human expert, but, well… he knew it wasn’t true, so he just busied himself with properly getting the shirt over his head instead.

“It’s not my fault I don’t own anything boring, you mean.” Remy corrected. “Besides, you should just be glad you didn’t have to go digging through Dee’s closet for a look. I’m sure you could pull off any look you put your mind to, hun, but I have a feeling you don’t want to try and pull off his.”

Virgil glanced over at the third member of their party. Deceit had changed so much in those forty-seven minutes Virgil almost didn’t recognize him when she came out to join them. Lumpy, unflattering clothes had been replaced by a sleek black dress, complemented with all sorts of gold- a bracelet designed like a snake, an uncomfortably close to her neck necklace, and shoes with heels much  _ much  _ too tall in Virgil’s opinion. He had topped off the entire look with a black half-cape with gilded edges and a crown that looked to be made simply of golden snakes despite Virgil being almost certain he had seen it moving at some point.

“Yeah. It’s a little… much.” Virgil agreed, as if Deceit wasn’t even there, earning himself an outraged gasp from the fae herself and laughter from Remy.

“Oh, as if their look isn’t outrageously extra!” Deceit defended, gesturing at Remy. The only change they had made to their look was putting their long hair into a ponytail. With the faded blues, reds, and pinks pushed back, Virgil could now see the bits of metal that were punched in across both their ears, hooking over edges and going across the ear itself to the point that Virgil was surprised they had any ear left.

At the accustation, Remy just grinned and pointed their fingers at Deceit in what Virgil took for some sort of ‘L’ shape, pointer finger facing the other fae. “You know it, babes!”

Virgil rolled his eyes as Deceit’s outrage at the onslaught of his look grew. “Will you two just accept you both go way over the top and that I’m the only one with a decent look between all of us?”

“Never!”

“I’d almost prefer to die.”

Remy looked over at Deceit in amusement. “Almost prefer to die? Somehow both too dramatic and not nearly dramatic enough.” Remy’s smile turned into a grin. “It’s your entire personality in a sentence!”

In response, Deceit  _ hissed _ , and both Remy and Virgil broke into laughter at the childish reaction. Virgil inadvertently took a few steps back as he did, surprised when he bumped into something. He turned around swiftly, shock only growing when he realized it wasn’t a some _ thing _ \- it was a some _ one _ .

Virgil wasn’t sure where they had come from, given the well-trodden dirt path had been empty only a moment earlier, and currently the only thing surrounding them was woods- they had left the cluttered groupings of houses a few minutes ago, Remy briefly explaining the ‘human expert’ preferred to be as far from the majority of fae folk as possible. But they were most certainly there.

And angry, from the looks of it. Virgil stumbled away from them as quickly as he had stumbled into them, already starting to hunch over and curl into himself when he saw the disgust and rage in the fae’s eyes. Virgil could tell they were fae easily- their skin was glowing orange, and they carried the same ethereal air about them that Remy and Deceit had.

“Mortal.” The fae sneered it, face twisting up in revulsion. “You ought to keep an eye on where you’re going. Accidents are prone to happen otherwise.”

Virgil’s chest suddenly felt tight at the not-at-all-subtle implication that the fae wasn’t just talking about accidentally running into others. He grabbed the fabric at the bottom of his new shirt, bunching it up in his fists as he fought to keep his awareness about him.

“Yeah, accidents. It was an accident. It’s no big deal.” Remy spoke up, their tone warning, though the edge was covered by almost-sincere friendliness.

The fae raised an eyebrow at Remy. “May I assume you’re his owner?”

“I- owner-  _ no _ .” Remy replied vehemently. “But he is with me, so if you could just move on-”

“Oh, so he’s an ownerless mortal? In the world of fae?” The fae pressed, turning towards Virgil to grin wickedly at him even as they continued to address Remy. “That’s a very dangerous thing to be.”

Virgil’s grip on his shirt tightened, and if he wasn’t so focused on the threatening fae in front of him he might have worried he was going to tear it. “I’m not ownerless.” He protested, weakly. He wasn’t technically wrong, after all, even if the thought of Remy ‘owning’ him in any sense made him feel sick.

“Alright, that’s enough.” Remy said, voice resolute, but the orange fae ignored them in favor of advancing towards Virgil. Virgil’s breath hitched, but he couldn’t manage to get his legs to work with him and back away.

“Sure you aren’t.” The fae said, sounding sugary sweet. “Now, a pretty little thing like yourself has got to have an equally pretty name, no? Might I have it?”

The fae was still approaching, and Virgil still found himself unable to move, even as they reached out, clearly going to touch his cheek; even as Virgil’s mind screamed that the orange fae’s touch wasn’t good he couldn’t get himself to move, chest only feeling tighter as the hand got closer and closer and-

Different hands, around his arms, grabbing from behind pulled him back in just the nick of time, their owner easily catching Virgil when his legs didn’t move in time with the tug and he fell onto them. He glanced up, finding Deceit’s face above him. Deceit, however, wasn’t looking at him, but instead forwards. 

Virgil tilted his head so that he was looking forward as well, finding that his sight of the orange fae was being obscured by Remy. They were standing between the orange fae and Virgil, and as Virgil watched, they shoved the fae backwards to increase the distance between them.

“I said that’s enough!” Remy yelled, sounding even angrier than they had when they thought Virgil had brought hunters to them.

The orange fae stumbled back a few steps before they recovered their balance, scowling at Remy. “This is a lot of fuss over a mortal, don’t you think?” They snapped.

“I told you. He’s with me.” Remy said, not backing down, the pink glow around them seeing almost fiery as they continued, voice deadly calm, “Get out of my sight.”

“And what’ll you do if I don’t?” The orange fae asked, stepping up so that they were nose-to-nose with Remy.

Virgil didn’t completely catch what happened next; all he processed was that one minute, what seemed to be a blur of pure light moving in a manner that Virgil could more sense then see wasn’t friendly was slicing across his vision, and the next, the orange fae was sprawled on the ground, struggling to sit up as Remy stood over them.

As Virgil watched, Remy stepped over the fallen fae and crouched beside their head, whispering something in their ear that wasn’t very pleasant if the rapidly-becoming-terrified expression on their face was anything to go by. By the time Remy stood again, the orange fae was also scrambling to their feet, running as quickly as they could back in the direction the three of them had come from.

Remy watched them as they ran off, brow still furrowed, hands still clenched in fists. When they finally turned back to Virgil, however, all of that seemed to vanish- Remy’s expression softened into one of concern as they quickly came to stand in front of Virgil, gently taking his face in their hands as they looked for injuries.

“They didn’t touch you, did they?” Remy asked worriedly, rage briefly flashing in their eyes. “I swear, darling, I’ll kill them if they did.”

“I’m fine.” Virgil assured them, Deceit carefully helping him get his feet back under him before letting Virgil once more stand on his own. He reached up and grabbed Remy’s wrists, kindly pulling them away from his face, simply holding them in front of him instead. “I’m alright, promise.”

“Yeah, that’s why you just stood there while that bitch tried to touch you.” Remy snapped, though any venom that might have been in their tone was lost in their distressed expression.

“And then you swooped in before they could.” Virgil pointed out, unconsciously starting to rub circles into the palms of Remy’s hands with his thumbs. “And apparently put the fear of the Heavens into them- what the hell did you say to get them to run off that quickly?”

Virgil wasn’t sure if it was just the tint of their skin, but Virgil could have sworn Remy’s cheeks turned a shade brighter than the rest of their face. “What I’d do if they tried to touch you again.”

Virgil let out a low whistle. “Well, if that’s what had them running, I really don’t think I need to worry if someone else pulls the same trick.”

“I meant it when I said no more harm was going to come to you.” Remy replied fervently.

“I know.” Virgil assured them. “And none did. I’m okay.”

Remy didn’t respond for a moment, watching Virgil, clearly looking for a lie. When they didn’t find any, Remy sighed, letting go of Virgil’s hands and smiling sheepishly. Virgil put his hands back in the pockets of his lumpy pants, ignoring how… put out he suddenly felt at not holding Remy’s hands (because that was silly, really, to want to be holding Remy’s hands).

“Sorry.” Remy apologized, straightening out their jacket as they spoke. “Guess I got a little… carried away.”

“Oh, only a little.” Deceit mocked, and Remy glared at her.

“Says Mr. I’ll-catch-you-punch.” Remy shot back, grinning when Deceit frowned in annoyance at being called out.

“It was simply the reasonable thing to do.” Deceit defended, crossing her arms petulantly. “That fae was out of line and needed to be corrected, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to risk my own health and safety to do that.”

“And yet, you still offered to catch me.” Virgil cooed sweetely, ignoring Deceit’s glare. “You do care about me!”

Deceit continued to glare, but his lack of a proper response was telling enough. “Come on,” she grumbled, starting to head forwards once more, “I don’t want to leave the human expert waiting.”

“Yeah, I’m  _ sure _ that’s the only reason. Not.” Remy snarked as Deceit only walked faster away. They shook their head before waving a hand from Virgil to in front of themself.

“After you.” They invited. Virgil was well aware of why they wanted Virgil in front of them, especially with the orange fae technically behind the group, but Virgil didn’t mind. If he was being honest, he felt better knowing that Remy was guarding the rear.

The rest of the walk there was silent, Deceit just far enough ahead to avoid more ‘mockery;’ Remy suspiciously glancing about, on guard for another possible confrontation; Virgil content to just keep moving forwards.

Soon enough, the dirt path lead somewhere- a small clearing in the woods, the space where trees might have grown filled by a rather large log cabin. A well-kept garden sat fenced off to the right of it. White smoke curled out of its chimney. As the group approached the door, they found a neat sign hanging off of it.

“Home of ‘The Gays?’” Virgil read, confused. “Is that an official title?”

“It’s not.” Deceit informed him. “But it’s considered both poor form and simply stupid to mark your land and lodging with your name. Most fae just use their titles. Resident gay disaster thought this sounded better.”

“And he was right.” Remy said. “It’s much better than ‘regional gentry of the summer court accompanied by the mortals who have willfully taken up residence upon the gentry’s territory.’”

“Yeah, ‘The Gays’ is better.” Virgil agreed. “Much less wordy.”

“But neither descriptive nor useful.” Deceit pointed out.

“You’re just saying that because it’s what your nerd would say.” Remy replied. “And speaking of your nerd…”

Without any further warning, Remy pulled open the door, boldly stepping inside as if they owned the place and yelled, “I’m back, babes, and I know you missed me!”

Quicker than Virgil expected, a voice from within the house called back, “You can save us all some trouble if you just leave,  _ again _ , and leave now.”

Remy gasped in faux hurt. “I’m insulted, truly insulted! What have I done to gain your hatred!?”

The owner of the voice appeared now, settling themself against the wall at the end of the hallway. Virgil could tell they were likely human, their tanned skin not glowing in any way. They were dressed casually, their constellation-covered shirt looking worn and their jeans sporting holes across the knees. Their brown hair was pulled back in a loose bun, what appeared to be glittering stars holding back their bangs.

Despite how laid-back they looked, however, their expression was sharp; bright (but not unnaturally so) blue eyes watching Remy closely from behind minimalistic black glasses.

“You’ve gained no  _ hatred _ .” The person corrected. “What you have done is upset Roman. He doesn’t want to see you.”

“He can keep his eyes shut, then.” Remy replied. “I’m not here for him.”

“Then pray tell why are you darkening our doorway?”

“I need your assistance, O wise human expert.”

“Why would you even-” The human expert cut themself off, shaking their head. “It’s inconsequential. I see no reason to help the fae that abandoned my husband mid-conversation.”

“Fair, but consider: would you help your partner?” Remy asked, side-stepping enough to reveal Deceit in the doorway, but kept Virgil hidden.

The human expert’s expression melted into something much softer when they saw Deceit. “D-”

“Don’t.” Deceit cut them off. At the human expert’s confused frown, Deceit pulled Virgil into their sight.

Virgil smiled awkwardly and half-waved. The human expert, after pausing for a moment, gave him a small nod in acknowledgment before turning back to Remy.

“Explain.” They said curtly.

“Oh, you know how it is.” Remy said nonchalantly. “Sometimes you go into the woods for some harmless trickery and end up coming home with a mortal.”

The human expert didn’t respond for a moment, their eyes flicking between Remy and Virgil before they sighed.

“Sadly, I do know how it is.” They said, turning and heading back to wherever they had come from. “Please, come in.”

Remy turned back to Deceit and Virgil with a self-satisfied grin, waving at them to come in as they started to head off in the direction the human expert had gone. Deceit seemed even more eager to follow, hurrying after the both of them, leaving Virgil to close the door and trail behind them all.

Luckily, however, they hadn’t gone far- Virgil found them all in the room at the end of the hallway, Remy walking around the room and looking at various knick-knacks while the human expert and Deceit spoke to each other next to the blazing fireplace set into one of the walls.

Virgil took the moment with no eyes on him to admire the large room, with various couches and chairs spread in the center, looking very inviting. Pale grey light filtered in through the long windows across from Virgil, a reminder of the more detached-from-reality environment outside.

There was a sudden, short burst of laughter, and Virgil glanced over to find the human expert trying to hide a smile while Deceit grinned. A small smile graced Virgil’s face as well.

So they were the good kind of partners after all.

The human expert cleared their throat, now also gaining Remy’s attention as they began, “I apologize for the distraction that is, uh… Deceit?” The human expert looked to Deceit for confirmation and, upon being given a nod, went on, “Deceit. Now, you may call me Logan. What may I call you?”

The last bit was addressed to Virgil, who responded, “Uh, Virgil.” A little part of him wondered if he should’ve given a false name, but the majority of him didn’t see any need to bother. Not only did Logan seem human, Virgil wasn’t even sure he could still give his name away.

Logan nodded. “Virgil.” They said. “It is a pleasure to meet you.”

“Uh… right back at you.” Virgil replied, mostly because it felt like the polite thing to do.

“May I ask how you came to be in fairyland?” Logan asked. Virgil shrugged.

“I woke up.”

Logan frowned. “You… woke up?”

“I’ve got this one, specs.” Remy cut in, moving away from where they had been messing with some sort of multicoloured cube-of-cubes. “This sweetheart here came and made a deal with me to be somewhere else. And I made that somewhere here!”

“And the waking up?” Logan pressed.

Remy took a minute to answer, their jaw working as they carefully thought out their slow response of, “He… needed a nap.”

“Ah. I see.” Logan said easily, unperturbed. “Well, that all sounds fairly normal. May I ask why you felt you needed my expertise?”

“I’m mostly here because I need your food.” Remy admitted. At Logan’s disapproving frown, they rushed to add, “Well, I don’t want to poison him! He already ate all my bread! Plus, he’s got weird eye-stain thingys. You know what they are, right?”

At the mention of the stains, Virgil flinched microscopically, the steady burn already starting to increase in intensity. Of course, the pain never truly went away, but it was better when he wasn’t thinking about it.

Logan rolled their eyes. “Remy, I’m certain you are well-aware of the physical consequences of sleepless nights. You said Virgil ‘needed a nap,’ did you not?”

“That was for different reasons.” Remy said, waving Logan’s answer off. “And these aren’t sleep shadows or whatever. They’re  _ stains _ .”

Logan’s dismissive look was once more replaced by a confused frown as they crossed the room, coming to stand in front of Virgil. He looked away when Logan got close enough to see the stains, focusing on a wall while he listened to the human expert’s small gasp of surprise.

He jerked his head back forward when hands entered his vision, Logan’s just nearly touching his face. “May I?” Logan asked, and Virgil could tell they wanted to touch the stains.

Virgil shook his head as much as he could without bumping into Logan’s hands. “Please don’t.”

Logan nodded and lowered their hands immediately, choosing instead to simply lean forward and look as closely at the stains as they could. Virgil forced himself to remain still, letting Logan look.

“What are they?” They asked, curious despite the concern that laced their tone.

Virgil closed his eyes at the question, letting out a breath and stepping back so that Logan couldn’t keep looking at them. “Nothing. They’re nothing.”

“Falsehood.” Logan said immediately. Virgil just turned his head to the side, eyes still closed. He heard Logan sigh before pressing on, their tone neither comforting or harsh- simply firm. “I do not mean to pry about the nature or cause of these… stains… and if you do not wish to speak of them, I will respect that decision. But they are clearly not nothing.”

Virgil knew they were right, that details notwithstanding the stains were still definitely  _ something _ .

But Virgil also knew if he tried to explain them at all, he’d explain everything, and that wasn’t a story he wanted to share. So, despite Logan’s point, Virgil remained looking away from them and repeated, “They’re nothing.”

Virgil heard another sigh, this one disappointed, but before either Logan or himself could say another word, another new voice was saying plenty.

“Dearest moonbeam, beloved sunlight, I have returned from my perilous quest!” The voice boomed from down the hall, accompanied by the sound of the door opening and closing.

Virgil opened his eyes at the sound, finding that Logan had stepped away from him and was looking down the hall.

“Weren’t you out talking?” Logan called back, tone somehow both sarcastic and fond.

“I was! And you, of all people, should know the dangers and pitfalls of conversation!” The voice finished up just as they reached the end of the hall. Upon seeing the collection of people, the being’s smile fell.

Their mood didn’t seem to improve as they scanned the room, the brilliant red glow that had been practically burning a moment ago was now more subdued, only highlighting- but not necessarily illuminating- their dark skin.

“Where’s my sunshine?” They asked Logan when they finished their scan of the room.

A soft smile flittered over Logan’s face as they walked over to the red fae, brushing some of their hair- long and black, though dyed in some spots a brilliant blue, little braids of it seemingly wrapped around sapphires- out of their face while Logan murmured, “He’s just out looking for daisies, my prince- he’ll be back soon.”

The fae pouted. “But I want to outrageously bestow my affections on him now!”

Logan leaned up to press a quick kiss against the fae’s lips. “You’ll have to suffice with just me for now. Besides, we have guests.”

“Yeah. Guests.” The fae said dryly, pointing in the direction of Remy and Deceit. “Aka my betrayer and your partner, both of whom are plenty familiar with my antics. And just you? _ Just  _ you?! My darling rain lily, my beautiful treasure, my universe, you are so much more than simply _ just  _ you!”

“Dear, please.” Logan pleaded, though they sounded amused. “You missed one.”

“Missed, what, a name for you? There are so many titles to proclaim your magnificence I’m really not surprised-”

“A guest! You missed a guest!” Logan cut them off.

The fae frowned. “Don’t be ridiculous, I’d never-” They stopped when, in glancing around the room once more, they spotted Virgil. “Oh.” They said, shocked. “Who are you?”

“You can call me Virgil.” Virgil lifted a hand in a half-wave. “How do you do?”

The fae’s frown remained as they ignored Virgil and they turned searchingly to their other guests for answers. Remy shrugged. “He’s the reason I so rudely left in the middle of our chat about… whatever we were talking about which I’m sure I was listening to at some point.”

The fae seemed unbothered by Remy’s confession to being a horrible listener, face instead breaking out into a wide grin as they said, “Why didn’t you just say so? I wouldn’t have thought about your abandonment of me for even a second if I had known you finally have a bo-”

“Mortal!” Remy interrupted, looking meaningfully at the red fae as he finished for them, “Busy with the mortal in my ring.”

“I… see.” The fae said slowly, their expression unreadable to Virgil. They remained staring at Remy for a moment, and Virgil got the feeling as if somehow, through looks alone, they were having a conversation he wasn’t privy to.

The moment passed, however, and soon enough the fae was looking back at Virgil, grin once more in place.

“Well there, mortal Virgil, I answer to the name of Roman!” He proclaimed as he turned Logan around so that they were facing Virgil, his once more brightly glowing arms comfortably wrapped around the human expert’s shoulders. “You’ve already met them, but this is my husband! I adore them!”

“I think he knows that already.” Logan pointed out.

“Yeah, I knew that already.” Virgil confirmed.

“It can’t hurt to repeat it!” Roman responded cheerfully.

Logan rolled their eyes. “Please mind him. He’s… very gay.”

“I can tell.” Virgil said.

“It’s not my fault I don’t want to help it!” Roman protested, sinking down a bit so that he could rest his head on the top of Logan’s head. “Besides, I normally have two husbands too shower in my adoration. Now I have but one!”

“He’ll be back very soon, Ro, you’re just being dramatic.”

“It should be a crime for me to ever be without both my husbands beside me! I have earned the right to be dramatic!”

“Except you do this every time one of us is gone for any length of time.”

“It never becomes any less of a should-be crime!!”

“Alright there, hun, I think you’ve disaster gayed enough for the hour.” Remy cut in, approaching the group with a smile as they pulled Roman off of Logan. Roman whined the moment contact was lost, and Remy rolled their eyes. “Oh, you’ll be alright for a few minutes without them. I just need to ask you something.”

“Why can’t you ask me here? Where I can still hug my husband?” Roman questioned, still seeming very put out over the fact that he wasn’t being allowed to hold Logan.

Remy only hesitated for a second before they answered, “Because I’m trying to help distract you from remembering you only have one husband with you at the moment, which seems to be the only thing on your mind.”

Roman continued to pout but allowed himself to be pulled away by Remy, who lead them off past the fireplace. Virgil watched them leave before shaking his head and turning back to Logan, who was still faintly smiling.

“‘The Gays’ really is an adequate term for you all.” Virgil commented.

“It mostly applies to my husbands.” Logan responded off-handedly. “They are more the, ah, ‘gay disasters’ of this relationship than I am.”

“Oh, come now Lo, no need to lie just because you can.” Deceit said, having come over to join the pair. He moved to stand behind Logan like Roman had, resting her head on top of Logan’s as well. “You know you are just as much of a gay disaster as they are.”

“Mayhaps.” Logan conceded with a knowing smile, glancing upwards at the fae settled upon their head. “But at least I am capable of disguising it. Unlike the rest of my partners, who seem unable to not melt over my mere existence.”

“You have an existence worth melting over.” Deceit replied easily. “You also have a head at perfect melting onto height.”

Logan looked at Virgil in amusement. “I have to carry these fools so often I have become cursed to be the shortest of all my partners.”

Virgil chuckled. “Maybe try falling for a mortal, then? I hear they’re not unnaturally tall.”

“Oh, I did. My other husband just happens to be unnaturally tall anyways.” Logan responded.

“That’s right. ‘Sunshine.’” Virgil said, feeling awkward using the nickname but not having a better way to reference the second husband. “Out getting daisies, right?”

Logan nodded, ignoring the small hiss Deceit let out when his head bounced with Logan’s. “He likes picking flowers. I do believe he’s getting ready to make more flower crowns. The household will soon be in chaos.”

Virgil raised an eyebrow. “Are flower crowns some sort of death omen around here or…?”

“No, quite the opposite.” Logan assured him. “My husband is just very… energetic. And flower crowns only fuel his energy.”

As if on cue, there was once more the sound of the door being opened, soon followed by a cheery voice calling, “Honeypie! Sweetums! I’m backkkkkk!”


	4. Protection and Promises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remy has a request

Faintly, Roman could hear the sound of the front door being opened and closed, even fainter the call of his second husband, returned from his flower picking. Normally, Roman would have rushed out of the room to welcome home his love, or at the very least been glancing in the direction of the living room as his attention on Remy quickly waned. Normally, Roman would have told Remy to finish their point later, or just pulled them along to keep talking while they went to meet his sunshine.

Normally, Remy didn’t look so utterly tormented.

When Remy had first pulled him away, Roman had been quick to tease them- guess he wasn’t the only gay disaster around, huh? Remy could pretend Roman hadn’t seen the way they’d been glancing at the new mortal, but Roman knew better. He had played the exact game not once but twice, after all.

Remy had waved away his jokes immediately, however, taking off their sunglasses so they could nervously fiddle with them. Roman had frowned, realizing something was more serious than he had thought, and asked Remy what was going on. Remy had turned back to look at him, and that’s when Roman knew- Remy’s eyes were wide and bright and  _ afraid _ .

And as Remy told Roman how their interactions with Virgil had gone, Roman quickly understood why.

“-Eighteen hours, Ro, eighteen hours!!” Remy said, sounding more than stressed as they paced in front of the gentry. “I mean, I know I told him to rest, but it was more of a suggestion than anything, I thought it would only hold for an hour or two but it didn’t and I just can’t help but think what the fuck tired him out so much he just kept sleeping for  _ eighteen _ hours and-”

“Hey, hey now, calm down for a moment.” Roman advised, gently placing a hand on Remy’s shoulder and stopping their pacing. Remy let out a breath.

“Sorry.” They said as Roman removed his hand to cross his arms. “I just… he’s thin, he’s pale, I almost want to say he’s sickly, he doesn’t trust me which is normal but I feel like there’s more to it, he keeps acting like he owes me something despite the fact that he literally gave me his entire name, he’s got those horrible stains under his eyes he won’t tell anyone about and- and I just can’t stop seeing him in the ring, looking so… so desperate.”

“It’s all very worrying.” Roman agreed. “What do you plan to do?”

Remy threw up their hands uselessly. “I don’t know! I’m not like you!”

“Rude.”

“You know what I mean- I don’t… I don’t usually take mortals home.” Remy said, frowning in disgust and rolling their tongue. “I dislike the sound of that. But you get my point.”

Roman nodded. “I do. But he’s here now. That’s good, right?”

“It should be… which brings me to what I wanted to ask you about.”

“Oh?”

Remy’s fidgeting with their shades increased. “I know you only did this for your husbands since they’re, y’know, your loves and all, and I don’t know how much effort all that convincing takes, and I’ll understand if you say no but-”

“You want me to make sure the other fae don’t mess with him?” Roman guessed.

“Please.” Remy responded immediately, turning to fully face Roman. “I can’t follow him everywhere he goes, and even if I could, I wouldn’t want to. I don’t want him to feel like I’m watching his every move. I just want… I just want him to be safe. I promised him he’d be safe, and that’s not a promise I’m going to break.”

Remy’s tone was so fiercely protective Roman wasn’t sure he could’ve said no if he wanted to. “Of course I will, Remy. No fae will so much as think of laying a hand upon him without meeting my sword.”

Remy’s shoulders drooped in relief. “Thank you.” They said, relieved. They glanced away, back in the direction of the living room, where faint voices could be heard if one strained their ears. “For better or worse, this is his home now, and I- I want him to be able to at least wander it freely. And I- I-”

Roman raised an eyebrow when Remy didn’t continue. “You what?” He pressed.

Remy sighed and ran a hand over their face. “I want to help him.” They admitted. “I want to help him, and I don’t know how at all but… this has to be a good start, right?”

Roman put a hand on Remy’s shoulder, this time not to restrain them but just to be there, offering support. “It is.” He assured Remy. “I know even less about all of this than you do, but I can tell you really do care about his well-being. If you think this is a good place to start, than I have no doubt that it isn’t.”

“Okay, yeah, that’s… that’s good then.” Remy semi-rambled, looking sheepishly at Roman before they continued, “Thanks again, Ro- really. This means more than I think I can say.”

“It’s no problem.” Roman reassured them before grinning. “Now. Tell me just how much you care for Virgil there.”

Remy looked suspiciously at Roman. “An average amount. Why do you ask?”

When Roman’s grin only grew, Remy took a step back from him. “Oh no. No no no no  _ no _ . Hun, I swear, if you say what I think you’re going to-”

“I always knew, sooner rather than later, you’d see the light.” Roman began, ignoring Remy. “Of course, I had assumed you’d find your other half- or halves- amongst our people, but I am always willing to support the path less taken-”

“I hate you so much right now.” Remy moaned. “Weren’t you listening?! He’s desperate and hurt and I pity him. That’s why I’m helping him.”

“Yes, but I do believe you said something about him… what was it…” Roman pretended to be deep in thought before exclaiming, “that’s it! You said you  _ wanted _ to help him! And what a sweet sentiment coming from you, who apparently just ‘pities’ him.”

“You are impossible without your husbands.” Remy complained, though Roman could see the red of their cheeks that had nothing to do with their natural glow.

“Oh, trust me, the problem this time has nothing to do with me- hey! What are you doing?!”

Remy glanced back at Roman, who they had started to pill down the hall and back to the living room. “Returning you to your husbands so you can focus that gay disaster in the right places.”

“I AM focusing in the ri-  _ how are you so strong _ .”

Remy didn’t answer Roman this time, well-aware the answer of ‘I get stronger trying to avoid questions I can’t lie my way out of’ would only worsen things. They continued to tug him after them until they were back to the living room, where Remy unceremoniously shoved Roman into the center of the room.

The action disrupted the small group that had formed, with Deceit resting her head on top of Logan’s (who looked resigned to the familiar situation) and Virgil’s arm held tight in the grasp of a human with sun-tanned skin, little doodly lines and simple flowers tattooed in basic yet bright colours across his arms, wiry glasses perched on his nose, and bright blond hair that fell in curls to his shoulders- Roman’s second husband.

Upon seeing him, Roman immediately brightened, Remy and their matters forgotten as he cried out, “Sunshine!” and began to rush at Patton. Virgil’s eyes widened when he saw the oncoming fae, and Remy almost called out for Roman to slow down before he did so on his own, slowing enough so that he could slam into Patton without jostling Virgil at all.

Roman wrapped his arms around Patton’s waist, nuzzling his face in Patton’s neck. “Mmm, my sunshine, my dewdrop, my sweetest bloom, oh how I’ve missed you.”

Patton giggled at Roman’s murmurs. “I was only gone for fifteen minutes!”

“Any time spent without you is an eternity suffered and wasted.”

“Well now I’m just hurt.” Remy joked, pinching their inner arm as they came to stand on the other side of Virgil.

“I apologize Remy, but you simply cannot compete with the presence of my loves.” Roman said off-handedly, glancing at Logan as he did. “One of whom is rudely not holding me right now.”

“I’m occupied.” Logan replied as Deceit mirrored Roman, wrapping his arms around Logan’s mid-section.

“Then get less occupied.” Roman whined. He waved an arm at Logan, but they took a step back, smirking when Roman slumped more on top of Patton in response. “My husband, placing their partner before me! Even the husband who doesn’t flee my affections holds another!”

“He needs comforting!” Patton protested. “And food but he said he didn’t want any.”

Virgil shrugged with his free shoulder. “I had some bread, like, an hour ago.”

“An hour ago?! Bread?!?!” Patton exclaimed, distraught. “You need more substance! Do you like cookies?”

“I, uh… I’ve never had one before.”

The distress in Patton’s eyes increased tenfold. “I’m going to make you cookies.” He said it like a vow. Then he frowned. “But I’ll have to stop comforting you…”

Virgil quirked up the side of his mouth. “That’s alright, Patton. I don’t mind.”

“I do! I mind!” Roman spoke up. “You just got back! I don’t want you to leave again!”

Patton laughed a little, turning around and forcing Roman to remove his head from Patton’s shoulder so that Patton could look at him. “You’ve got to come help me bake them, then!” Patton bent down a bit to press a kiss to Roman’s nose. “I need your sugar to make them after all!”

Roman’s cheeks turned a shade of red that was unrelated to the magic glow of his skin. “I love you.” He said, sounding breathless.

Patton placed his hands over Roman’s, getting the fae to let go of him so that he could hold Roman’s hands in his own. “I love you too.” He said before pulling Roman away, off in the direction of the house’s kitchen.

“I should go make sure they don’t burn down anything.” Logan said after a moment passed. “I’d try to stop them from making a mess as well, but…”

“Patton and Roman are not just  _ gay _ disasters.” Deceit clarified.

“Precisely.” Logan looked up, as if that would allow them to see Deceit. “Will you be coming with me, or do you possess the ability to find another headrest?”

“I do.” Deceit admitted, smiling slyly. “But I prefer you.”

Logan sighed affectionately. “Of course you do.” They said before looking back at Remy and Virgil. “Don’t break anything.” They ordered before turning and heading off in the direction their husbands had gone in, Deceit walking with them.

“So…” Remy said into the new silence that had come the minute the disasters (in various states of functionality) left, “what do you think of ‘The Gays?’”

“I think they’re really gay.” Virgil deadpanned and Remy laughed.

“I’m so incredibly surprised.”

Virgil smiled. “More seriously, though, they’re chill. I mean, Roman’s more occupied with his spouses than literally anything else, Logan keeps looking at my… face,” Virgil flinched while he hesitated; Remy pretended not to notice, “and I think Patton’s adopted me, but other than that, they’re chill. If nothing else, it’s nice to be around some humans.” Virgil looked up panically at Remy. “Not to say-”

Remy waved him off. “It’s alright, babes, I get what you mean.” They told him. “I wouldn’t want to be surrounded by only non-glowy people.”

Virgil raised an eyebrow. “Non-glowy people? That’s the most worrying difference between humans and fae?”

“Yeah it is!” Remy confirmed. “It’s not natural! How else are you supposed to stand out and be unique and stuff?!”

“Humans generally try not to stand out. That tends to get us killed.”

Remy rolled their eyes playfully, sunglasses still in hand. “Then develop some talons or something. Your lack of cool survival features isn’t my problem.”

“And yet, here I am.” Virgil said, smiling bitterly. “Completely lacking in cool survival features and yet very much your problem.”

The response caught Remy off-guard, the silence stretched when they didn’t have anything to follow with. Virgil scratched awkwardly at the back of his neck, looking away from Remy.

“I think I’m going to see how the cookies are coming.” Virgil said eventually. He glanced at Remy, as if expecting resistance. When he found none, he just nodded to himself and walked away.

Remy remained where they were, still searching for an answer and only finding one. Not that it helped them much.

After all, how do you tell someone you barely know that they could never be your ‘problem?’


	5. Nothing at All

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The siblings have a talk

It had been three weeks since then, and Remy still didn’t have a better answer.

Theoretically, the progression of time should have helped him. After so much time, it should be easy to come up with some sort of light-hearted, witty reply that was normal and acceptable.

But his every interaction with Virgil seemed to only solidify that one, unspoken answer. He wasn’t sure how many times he had had to reassure Virgil he didn’t want anything from him but his comfort, but he knew he’d never get fed up with doing so.

He had freely given Virgil the guest room, more than happy to direct any other guests to the couch. And Remy had never even thought of going in there for any reason (bar the time Virgil had stayed in there for three days, having worked himself into a panic and somehow coming to the conclusion that he wasn’t _ allowed _ to leave his room, and even then Remy mostly remained outside, trying to convince Virgil to come out and eat, if only because Patton would worry otherwise. He had only gone in when Virgil’s responses started sounding jerky and choked, Remy going in to count out the four-seven-eight pattern he didn’t fully understand outside of knowing it helped Virgil calm down) which probably should have been annoying in some form, to know a part of his own house was closed off to him.

But it wasn’t. Remy hadn’t minded for a second. He hadn’t minded anything that Virgil had done or said, or even what he hadn’t said- like where he got the stains, or why he was being pursued in the first place. Of course Remy wanted to know the answers, but if Virgil wasn’t ready to share them, then that was his business. Not Remy’s.

Which, yeah, all of that? Sounded nice. Sounded good. Remy was respecting his privacy, not trying to force anything on Virgil outside of semi-decent eating habits.

This, however, was proving to be very problematic to Remy. Because every time Remy helped Virgil, he'd give Remy a little smile. A relieved, thankful smile. And while Remy wasn’t entirely sure what, exactly, the emotions that twisted and jumped in his stomach were, he was sure of one thing:

He didn’t want them.

And yet… they stuck around. So Remy went with the next best thing: never talk, think about, or acknowledge them.

This, too, was not a successful plan.

It really shouldn’t have surprised him that his sibling, as close to a master of deception as a fae can get, had caught on. He had been in the kitchen when Deceit cornered him.

“Hello…”

“Brother.”

“Hello, brother dearest.” Deceit finished his line.

“Lost your button again?”

“...Perhaps.” Deceit said vaguely, and Remy just smirked at her as he pulled a button out of his pocket, the average brown colour of it shifting into layers of dark blues and greens, gilded letters on each side reading ‘he’ and ‘him’ as he passed it to Deceit.

“Ya gotta keep better track of those.” Remy said as Deceit put the button in his own pocket. “That’s, what? Your fourth replacement?”

“Get something harder to lose and I won’t need so many replacements.”

“Get more important to me and maybe I will.” Remy threw back lightly. “Now, is there anything else I can help you with, or am I just blocking your access to the bread?”

“You are blocking the bread.” Deceit said, frowning just a touch as Remy only scooted further back on the counter, blocking it more. “But I have a more… pressing matter I wished to speak to you about.”

“Oh? Hit me with it.”

Deceit moved further into the kitchen before she did, coming to stand in front of Remy, leaning against the island and getting himself comfortable before he said, “It’s about Virgil.”

Remy frowned. “What about him? Is he alright?”

Deceit nodded. “He’s perfectly alright. He’s currently in the living room trying to solve a rubix cube Logan leant him a few days ago.”

“Good. But if that’s the case… what about him?”

“Allow me to rephrase.” Deceit said. “I want to talk about your relationship with Virgil.”

Remy furrowed his brow. “What, the one where he’s some mortal who handed over the equivalent of his entire being and free will to me, a powerful fae who could at any moment tell him to jump off a cliff and he’d do it?”

“No, not that one.” Deceit said easily. “I meant the one where you’re definitely in love with him.”

Despite sitting almost entirely on the counter, his legs criss-crossed underneath him and several inches from the edge, Remy almost fell off the counter. “What?!”

“You heard me.” Deceit responded, unbothered by Remy’s response or the glare he was now fixing Deceit with. “Oh, don’t act like it isn’t obvious. You always act… different around him.”

“I apologize- I didn’t realize that the way we met and how he subsequently actually ended up in our home was the start of a very average and normal relationship.” Remy said, sarcasm thick enough in his voice to dispel any chance that he might have seriously thought that.

Deceit just blinked at him, unimpressed. “You are perfectly aware that’s not what I meant.”

“Am I?”

“If you aren’t, I am happy to clarify.” Deceit replied, continuing on before Remy could stop him, “If you were acting different around him just because of the awkward power difference between the two of you, you’d try to spend as little time with him as possible, constantly rush to reassure him that he’s not offended you and/or that you’re not looking for anything from him, and more or less freely gift him the entire house.”

Remy smirked. “Am I not doing all those things?”

“Mostly, yes.” Deceit conceded before smiling in self-satisfaction. “But that’s not all you’ve been doing.”

“You’re right- I’ve also been sleeping, eating, walking around a bit,”

“I’m talking about the fact that your gaze has a tendency to linger on him when he’s not watching, that every time he smiles you smile even if you have no immediate reason to, that every time he says something vaguely nice about you your cheeks turning a shade of pink that doesn’t match the rest of your skin.” Deceit cut him off, effectively silencing Remy. She crossed her arms. “I can go on.”

Remy pinched the bridge of his nose. “Please don’t.”

“Will you admit you’re clearly in love with him, then?”

“I will not admit to false truths.” Remy said neutrally.

“Good thing this one isn’t false.”

Remy didn’t reply to that, and Deceit sighed. “I’d say you’re getting to be just as bad as Roman, but at least he had the decency to admit he was in love.”

“That’s because he was in love.” Remy pointed out. Deceit glared at him before taking off his beanie and swatting Remy with it. “Hey!”

“That’s what you get for being obtuse and rude.” Deceit said as she pulled her hat back on. “Listen, I’m not saying you have to go tell him right now or anything, I just want you to admit what’s really happening here.”

“And why, exactly, do you want that?” Remy asked in annoyance.

“Because it’s weird living with you two when you keep trying to pretend you aren’t pining.” Deceit responded, adding, “And because you should be able to talk about it and not try to ignore it like you have, because trust me, that method has  _ not _ been working.”

Remy didn’t say anything for a moment, just looking at Deceit, who looked back, both expressions emotionless. Finally, he sighed, looking down at the counter beneath him.

“I don’t know what I feel towards him.” Remy admitted. “It might be that, but I’m just… not sure. But it doesn’t matter.”

“How so?”

“Because I can’t, in good conscience, tell him either way.” Remy answered. “You’ve seen how he acts. He’ll barely get changed without being sure I’m okay with him changing. I hold all the power here, and pushing anything like that onto him… it wouldn’t end well, you know that.”

Deceit nodded slowly. “Yeah, I do. That doesn’t mean you should just-”

“It does, though.” Remy cut her off before he could finish his sentence. “It really does.”

Deceit just nodded again. “So what’re you going to do about it, then?”

“Nothing.” Remy answered, resigned. “Nothing at all.”


	6. Five Years

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patton talks, Virgil listens, and the rain continues to fall in the garden

Three weeks had turned into two and a half months, and Virgil still knew nothing about the kitchen conversation between Remy and Deceit. Nothing had seemed off to him outside of what he was quickly learning were normal fae things, like casually trying to trick your sibling into horrible, unbreakable deals.

Just that morning, Virgil had almost seen Remy trade away everything he owned (Virgil likely included) for a muffin thanks to some very tricky wording on Deceit’s part.

Virgil had told them he was going to The Gays’ house after that incident. Well, less ‘told’ more ‘said awkwardly while looking at Remy to make sure he was fine with it’ but he was, as always, more than willing to let Virgil go off and do whatever he pleased, which Virgil still found odd. After all, Remy had his entire name, and with it his free will, his self, his everything. Remy could do anything he wanted to or with Virgil, and yet...

Virgil shook the thought from his head. Remy’s behaviour had confused him since day one, and no amount of thinking on his behalf had yet resolved the reason why, so there wasn’t much point in thinking about it now.

He spent the rest of the walk in mental silence, paying too much attention to the flora and fauna about him to think about anything else, like concerned fae who were acting concerned and made Virigl feel concerned in more ways than one.

A light rain had started to fall by the time he was on The Gays’ doorstep, and before he even got a chance to knock, the door was being pulled open, revealing Patton, dressed in what Virgil now knew were called ‘overalls’ and a light blue shirt underneath.

“Oh, Virgil!” Patton said, caught off-guard, but quickly grinning. “It’s good to see you. What brings you over?”

Virgil shrugged. “Remy and Deceit are having a min war over the rights to their entire lives. It seemed a bit… hectic.”

Patton nodded sympathetically. “Oh, they can. Roman accidentally gave his entire house to them once after Deceit gave him a new necklace.”

“How’d he get it back?”

“Logan asked her nicely to give it back.”

Virgil chuckled. “Smooth, Deceit, smooth.”

Patton laughed as well. “He was still trying to win their favor back then. I think Deceit would have given Logan the moon if they asked nicely enough.”

The wording threw Virgil, making him think back a couple of days ago, when Virgil had asked if they had any heavier blankets (he hadn’t mentioned why he wanted a heavier one, why piling all the blankets and sheets in his room on top of each other had only worked for so long to convince him this place was real and not  _ there _ ).

_ “We don’t, but I can get one.” _

_ “Oh, no, you don’t need to do that- I was just curious it’s fine, really- I don’t need-” _

_ “It’s no problem, sugar.” Remy had assured him, smirking at Virgil, though to Virgil it had felt off, a certain uncaring confidence that should’ve come with their smirks missing. “If you wanted me to, I could get you the moon to make you more comfortable. I don’t think a heavier blanket will be that much of a challenge.” _

Of course, at the time, Virgil had taken it as an over-exaggeration. An odd, slightly personal over-exaggeration. But the fact that fae couldn’t lie had slipped his mind at the time, and now that he was hearing it again, the thought of whether or not Remy could have said that if he didn’t mean it came to mind.

“Virgil? You good there, kiddo?” Patton snapped Virgil out of his thoughts, head tilted to the side with just the slightest bit of concern showing.

Virgil nodded. “Yeah, sorry Pat, just got lost in thought.” He explained. “What are you up to?” He continued, hoping to distract from things that couldn’t be lies and fae who couldn’t be trusted (right?).

Patton’s smile returned as he enthusiastically answered, “Gardening! It’s a good day for it, and now that it’s raining a bit- well, it’s just perfect! Care to join me?”

“Uh… yeah. Sure. Sounds fun.” Virgil said after a moment. Patton’s smile grew as he closed the door and dodged around Virgil to get down the step, heading in the direction of the garden.

Virgil half-expected to see Logan and Roman there as well, lovingly bickering or failing to plant tomatoes or something similar. They weren’t there, however, the garden completely empty as Patton opened the gate and ushered Virgil in.

“Where are your husbands?” Virgil asked while Patton re-latched the gate. “I figured they’d be helping you.”

“Oh, they wouldn’t do that.” Patton said with a giggle, leaning close to Virgil and saying in a stage whisper, “Between you and me, they’re horrible gardeners anyways. Plus, they’re out on a walk right now.” He added in a normal tone.

“And you’re not walking with them?” Virgil asked in feigned disbelief. “Normally the three of you can’t be forcefully separated without good reason.”

“It’s the anniversary of the day Logan told Roman they loved him.” Patton answered with a smile. “It’s more of a them day, you know?”

“Ohhh. I see.” Virgil said slowly. “They told Roman?”

“Yep!”

“Huh…” Virgil shook his head. “Sorry, I just always took Roman to be the more likely one to get over himself and profess love. Likely very dramatically.”

“He is.” Patton agreed, smile mellowing a bit. “But he’s also a fae. Which made him a lot more powerful than Logan. In a position like that… you can’t really make the first move.” Patton explained as he started to make his way through the garden, Virgil following.

“That… that makes sense.” Virgil agreed. They walked in silence for a little, Patton smiling at all his plants as he passed them, fingers brushing over their leaves and petals as he went. Every once in a while, Patton would stop, patting down a certain plant’s soil more or even just cupping a flower in his hands, admiring it.

There was a look in his eye when he did that; something adoring and sweet, that shone in his eyes and tipped up the corners of his mouth as well. The look felt familiar to Virgil, like one he could replicate in another if he but turned now, walked for fifteen minutes back to where he had come from, and said something as simple as ‘hello’ to a certain fae…

“How did you confess to Roman?” Virgil asked, suddenly, anything to keep him out of his mind, anything else he could focus on.

Patton jerked a bit, clearly surprised by the sudden break in silence, but he stood up and smiled at Virgil nonetheless.

“I didn’t, not really.” He answered cheerfully. “We more just… fell for each other, and went from there.”

“How… how does that even work?” Virgil asked, confused.

Patton shrugged. “It just does, I suppose.” He said, moving to the next plant as he continued, “I met Roman in the forest near my hometown. I came to it a lot, because I knew there were a lot of fae traps set up in there, and I just hated the idea of anything or anyone being imprisoned, morally bad or not.”

“And you somehow didn’t lose your entire life to one of these freed fae?”

“The fae may be mischievous, but they try not to wrong those who offer them so much help.” Patton answered. “Though, were it not for Roman, I’m sure one of them would have tricked me eventually. I tried to be careful, but, well… they do have much more experience with that sort of thing.”

“But they didn’t.” Virgil said in confirmation. Patton nodded. “Because of Roman?”

Patton nodded again. “You can only save so many fae before others come looking, of course. And as a gentry, and it being the middle of summer, well… Roman couldn’t exactly not learn of the mortal freeing so many of his people, could he?

“So he came, and we met.” Patton said, stopping in his walk for a moment to lean on the nearest fence post, sighing dreamily. “Oh, he really was a vision. He was in his prince outfit that day, gleaming white and shining gold. His skin glowed like fire, his smile was bright enough to blind. He had ammolite in his hair that made it seem like he had woven rainbows in his hair. He was… impossible. I wasn’t quite sure he was truly real.”

Virgil chuckled. “That’s gay, Pat. Really, really gay.”

“You should have seen me when we first spoke!” Patton exclaimed. “He was just so charming! So smooth and refined and handsome! His voice was just as pretty as he was.”

“And yet, you managed to not ask him to marry you right then and there?” Virgil teased.

“I did! I don’t know how I did it, but I did!” Patton said empathetically. He frowned. “Guess the whole ‘powerful fae who could take away my entire will at any moment with the utterance of a few words’ thing helped stop me, huh.”

Virgil bit the inside of his mouth. “Yeah, that probably didn’t help.” He said, trying to keep his tone light.

Patton shrugged. “But that’s alright. It didn’t last.” He said, finally pushing himself off the fence and beginning once more to check on his plants. “The fear of loving someone so devastatingly powerful, that is.”

Virgil raised an eyebrow. “And how did you manage that? I feel like it’s one of those things you don’t really forget.”

“I didn’t forget it.” Patton corrected easily. “I just realized I didn’t need to be afraid of someone who wouldn’t hurt me. It took a couple more meetings, seeing him in glances between the trees, realizing he was still visiting even as fall began, but eventually, I realized something.”

“What was that?” Virgil asked, fairly certain he already knew.

Patton confirmed his guess when he turned back to Virgil, a blooming rose held between his fingers and seemingly leaning into his grasp as he told Virgil, smile big and tone sweet, “He loved me too.”

Virgil found himself also smiling. “And you still didn’t tell him you loved him?”

“Verbally? No.” Patton said, moving on from the rose before he continued, “But in almost every other way, yes. It was painfully slow, of course, because even in love I knew I had to have some cation around the fae, but… soon enough, we were talking every day. I wasn’t visiting the forest with the purpose of freeing fae anymore- though I did do it if I saw one- but instead to meet one.

“After a year, I held his hand. We hadn’t touched up until then, I guess because it would mean… something bigger. Something more. But I knew he wouldn’t make the first move, and after so long… I wanted to hold his hand.”

“So you did.”

Patton smiled, softly, more to himself than Virgil. “So I did. After that, we’d walk through the forest properly. Holding hands. Arms over shoulders. We started dancing on Saturdays at dusk, when fireflies would come out and sunlight streamed through the trees just enough to guide our feet, and yet hide us from view. I still wouldn’t give him my name, so instead he’d call me by the flowers I wore in my hair and the colours of the sunset.”

Patton paused, stopping at his next plant, lost in fond memories Virgil had no intention to break him from. After a minute, he spoke again, voice nearly reverent.

“I kissed him after five years.” Quietly. “He had just come out of the trees with that smile… he called me tulip, held his hand an inch from my face to cradle it, waited to be sure I was okay with his touch… and I just couldn’t help myself.”

Virgil didn’t say anything, watching as Patton’s cheeks dusted pink and he idly raised a hand to them, still smiling idyllically.

“Neither of us said it, exactly, but that’s when we really told each other ‘I love you.’” Patton said thoughtfully. “I stopped aging that day, too. I don’t think Roman realized it, but subconsciously… he couldn’t bear to see a world without me in it, and so he made it that there would never be one.”

“That sounds… potentially problematic.” Virgil finally spoke, frowning at the thought of a never-aging human.

Patton laughed suddenly. “Oh, it was! It took a few decades for them to catch on, but eventually my hometown became, eh… a lot less homey. So I went to Roman.”

“Surprise, surprise.” Virgil deadpanned, getting an amused side-eye from Patton. He raised his hands in defense. “What? You’re here now, aren’t you?”

“Alright, fair enough.” Patton conceded with a grin. “I went to Roman, maybe with an angry mob at my tail, and asked him for a favor. Just a little trip anywhere far away. Immortal mortals not being hunted down was a plus, but not required.”

“And let me guess… Roman took you home?”

Patton’s smile turned knowing. “Roman told me he’d give me every treasure of the earth if I so wished; that taking me home wasn’t a favor for me so much as it was a gift for him. And then, yes, he took me home.”

Virgil rolled his eyes playfully. “You really are a gay disaster, huh?”

“And proud of it!” Patton agreed happily. “But you probably didn’t need to hear all of that. I have a tendency to get rambly about my knight in glowing armor.”

“That’s alright.” Virgil assured him as they once more began to move through the garden. “It’s… sweet, to see you care so much.”

“It’s easy when I’ve got such wonderful people to care for!” Patton told Virgil. “I’m sure you know what I mean?”

Virgil’s smile quickly fell into a frown as he looked away from Patton’s questioning stare. “I don’t.”

“Oh- I’m so sorry, Virgil, I just assumed-”

Virgil waved him off. “Don’t worry about it. It’s alright.” He said, plastering on a smile that almost felt real. Patton frowned, unconvinced, but he still turned back to his work. At first, the silence was nice; it was peaceful, the rain still falling gently across his arms as he watched Patton gently take care of his plants, whispering support to a few of the weaker ones.

Soon enough, however, it wasn’t- Patton’s story still remained in Virgil’s mind, the look in his eyes as he spoke, the love he had for even distant memories. It all made something deep inside him ache, not only in want but in  _ understanding _ , which was impossible, because Virgil didn’t love anybody like that.

...Right?

“Patton…” Virgil started before trailing off, unsure.

Patton looked over at him, tilting his head, curious. “Yeah, kiddo?”

Virgil hesitated before he asked, “What did it feel like? Falling in love with Roman? Uh, before you knew you could trust him.”

Patton’s smile returned, gentle. “It made me ache something awful. To think that of everyone I could have fallen for, it had to be someone who could break me so easily. But… I still loved him.”

“Despite the danger?” Virgil asked, cautiously. 

“Despite the danger.” Patton confirmed. “And maybe that was foolish, to want to hold his hand and dance with him and press little kisses across his cheeks when he couldn’t even know my name. But I couldn’t change it, so I didn’t.”

“And if… if there was more danger?” Virgil pushed, cringing a little at himself but continuing, “If… if the danger was more personal, if you couldn’t just walk away from it? Then… then do you still love them?”

Patton didn’t respond for a moment, pursing his lips in thought before he said, contemplatively, “Would they steal the moon for you?”

“W-what?”

“Would they steal the moon for you?” Patton repeated. “If you asked them to get you the moon, despite the impossibility of it all, would they still try?”

“I-”

_ If you wanted me to, I could get you the moon _

“I think they might.”

Patton smiled. “Then I’m not sure they’re as dangerous as you think they are.” He said simply, patting Virgil on the shoulder before he stepped past him, giving him a moment to think as he began to coo over a small bloom of bluebells.

Not that Virgil was entirely sure what he should be thinking about. Him and Remy? Remy, the fae who happened to take his name and take him to fairyland, who, by all rights, had to be dangerous? Who Patton said wasn’t dangerous just because of, what, a common phrase? That was insane. Crazy. Absolutely mad.

Virgil certainly didn’t think about it at all. How could he? Dangerous or no, he couldn’t trust Remy. So there was no point in thinking about him, his snark, his smile, taking his hand, holding him… that was ridiculous.

So Virgil continued to follow Patton around his garden, brushing his fingers past the flowers himself, and he didn’t think about it.

Not for a minute.

(But maybe, just maybe… he did think about it for just a second.)


	7. Pretend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes, there aren't ways to survive  
> Sometimes, all you can do is manage

Remy sighed as fae listened to the muffled sounds of talking coming from the other room, Virgil and Logan chatting about something fae was sure was very interesting. Or maybe it wasn’t. What did it matter? If Virgil was talking, Remy would always listen. 

Fae didn’t even need to be there, really, since Virgil just wanted to talk to Logan about a book they had leant him. But Remy had insisted on tagging along for the walk there, claiming fae needed to talk to Roman. Fae didn’t. Remy just wanted to spend a little more time with Virgil.

Which, wow, that sounded normal and not ridiculous and not at all like something Remy shouldn’t be doing.

What a nice thing that fae could lie in faer thoughts. Remy liked having somewhere to run from the truth.

When they had gotten there, of course, Remy couldn’t just say that faer reason for coming was suddenly nonexistent, and that’s how fae found faerself waiting in Roman’s study, the gentry out at the moment but returning soon, according to Logan. Logan had said if Remy didn’t want to wait, fae could go home, and Logan would send Roman to faer when he got home, but Remy said fae didn’t mind waiting.

Fae skillfully left out the part where fae was really staying because fae wanted to walk with Virgil back home.

Because, as fae thought to faerself, that was perfectly normal and extremely helpful to faer plan to stop being such a pining fool.

The sound of faint conversation was completely blocked out by the sound of the front door opening, floorboards creaking as someone entered and closed the door behind them. They were too heavy to be Patton’s, and Deceit had left an hour or so ago for the mortal world (something about sensing a mortal in his ring, but Remy was fairly certain she just wanted to find some snakes to play with), so it didn’t take much effort for Remy to guess who it was.

Roman didn’t arrive in his study for a good five minutes, likely busy smothering his husband in love and getting a few good snarks and maybe an eyeroll or two from Virgil as well. Remy knew fae should be using the time to come up with a reasonable excuse for being there, a question fae could ask, but instead fae just waited, having mentally got faerself stuck as soon as fae thought of Virgil’s snark and Virgil’s eyerolls and Virgil in general.

Before fae knew it, the door to the study was being slammed open, Roman coming in as dramatically as ever. He was in a dress today, gilded patterns lining its white edges and clashing with the red cloak he wore over the entire thing. There were moonstones woven into his hair today and zircons in all his jewelry- earrings, bracelets, a necklace, an anklet.

He beamed at Remy when he spotted faer. “Remy! It’s good to see you!”

“Someone’s in a good mood.” Remy observed easily while Roman closed the door.

Roman’s grin somehow only grew as he came to flop down in the armchair next to Remy, leaning over the arm to grin even more in faer face. “I am hypothetically over the moon!”

“Patton call you cute again?”

“Logan said I was more interesting than any book on their shelves.” Roman answered, suddenly pushing himself backwards to lean dramatically over the other arm of his chair, kicking his legs over the top of it and overall looking frankly ridiculous. He let out a dreamy sigh. “Oh, to be in love!”

Lost in his theratics, Roman didn’t notice as Remy’s grip on faer chair increased, digging faer fingers into the arms.

Roman eventually pulled himself back together, still leaning improperly back on his chair, though his legs were once more in the right spot. “I apologize for antics.” He said, still grinning. “Now, Logan said you had a question for me?”

Remy didn’t respond immediately, though it wasn’t because fae was thinking of a decent question to ask. Instead, fae was thinking about what Roman had said, the way he had smiled, how his every action seemed to just be another metaphor for his love. Fae thought about that, lost in those thoughts mixing in with faer own, and when Roman, slightly concerned, prompted, “Remy?” fae said the first thing that sprung to mind:

“How did you do it?” Fae asked, and when Roman only frowned in confused fae clarified, “How did you survive being in love with someone you could never be with?”

Remy wasn’t watching Roman anymore, looking down at faer hands instead, but fae could still see Roman move out of the corner of faer eye, sitting up completely properly, likely frowning.

“I… didn’t.” He answered slowly. “Not really.”

“But you still got a happy ending.” Remy pointed out bitterly.

“I didn’t know that at the time.”

“And yet… you never told them.”

“I knew it would hurt us both too much if I made the first move.”

“And you didn’t distance yourself from them completely.”

“I don’t think I could have if I tried.”

“And you saw them, every day, saw them and talked to them and interacted with them, saw them smile and heard them laugh and kept- kept loving them more and more and more and-” Remy stopped faerself, taking a breath before finishing, more subdued, “and you had to live with that. Every day. How did you… how did you survive that?”

Roman shook his head. “Like I said. You don’t. You just… manage.”

Remy shakily ran a hand over faer face. “How do you manage, then?”

Roman half-shrugged. “You pretend. You pretend you treat them like everyone else. You pretend everything’s the same for them. You smile and joke and talk with them as you would as if you didn’t love them so much.”

“That-” Remy stopped to laugh, sounding a little hysterical even to faerself. “Gods, that sounds awful.”

“It can be, yeah.”

“Can be?”

Roman smiled a bit at that, propping his chin on his hand to hold it up. “Some days, just knowing them is enough. Getting the wonderful gift of interacting with such an amazing person… it’s more than enough. It’s everything.”

“And other days?” Remy asked, because fae knew what those sorts of days were like. And today was not one of those days.

Roman sighed. “You see them smile and you remember how much you stand to lose if you can’t pretend for one more day.”

Remy nodded a bit. Fae swiped at his face, not surprised when faers fingers were suddenly wet, tears wiped across faers cheeks. “I love him.” Fae said, quietly, as if that would hide it, as if faer whispering it would deafen the world from hearing faers confession, might deafen faer from hearing it, as if it would simply cease to be true the moment fae said it.

But it didn’t, and Roman was nodding just a little as he said sympathetically, “I know.”

“What do I do?”

“You pretend.”

“And when I get tired of pretending?”

Roman looked away from Remy then, in the direction of the study door, behind which lay the husband for whom he pretended for three years, and Remy didn’t have to be Roman to know what he was thinking, thinking of those three years, of who-knows-how-many mornings and evenings and nights spent wondering at what point the pretending becomes too much and the pros somehow outweigh the cons, of logically knowing they never did and yet wishing so, so much that they would, even for just a minute, for just a second, to just be free of all the damn pretending.

“You think about how much worse it’ll all hurt if you stop.” Roman answered softly. “So you don’t stop. And if necessary… you never do.”

Remy didn’t react, instead just closing faer eyes as if that would stop the flow of tears. “You never do.” Fae repeated.

By faer nature, Remy had never been a good liar. But for this?

Remy would be the best actor in the whole goddamn world.


	8. Finding Trust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's dangerous to trust the fae  
> But maybe it's not so dangerous to trust this one

Virgil had been smirking through the full five minutes worth of a greeting that Logan and Roman exchanged, but the minute Roman was gone he was speaking, “‘More interesting than any book on my shelves?’” He snarked.

Logan’s cheeks turned another shade of red, almost matching the shade of the lipstick stain on the side of their mouth that they were hurriedly wiping away. “Oh, hush. It made him smile.”

“Everything you say makes him smile.”

“You are one to talk.” Logan snapped back, though they were still smiling.

Virgil raised an eyebrow. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Sure you don’t.” Logan returned, now smirking themself. “Because it’s not like Remy can take eyes off you for longer than five seconds at a time.”

Virgil spluttered. “What?!”

“You heard me.” Logan replied, unfazed as they briefly set their book down, pulling their hair over their shoulder so they could run their fingers through the bottom of it, pulling out the tangles as they kept watching Virgil, still smirking. “Please, there’s no need to keep up the act.”

“What act?” Virgil demanded, placing his own book down as well, too confused and thrown off to focus on it.

“Acting like you don’t know.”

“Don’t know what?!” Virgil asked. “Please, I don’t understand riddles.”

“Acting like you don’t know how utterly lost on you Remy is.”

“ _ I’m sorry, what _ ?”

“Mmhmmm.” Logan hummed, taking a moment to pull a button out of their pocket, consulting it before putting it back. “It’s painfully obvious. Fae’s almost always looking at you, almost always near to you in some way or another. Fae smiles every time you smile. Fae even said fae’d rather wait here for Roman, something I know Remy hates, likely because fae wants to be able to walk home with you. And I’m guessing fae gave that jacket to you?”

Virgil looked down at his chest, as if he might have forgotten what he was wearing- a lumpy jacket with no opening on the front (Remy had called it a hoodie). Remy had also said it was one of Deceit’s old ones, the holes in it covered with purple patches. Remy had given it to him after he had come back that day with Patton, drenched and maybe a little cold.

Remy had said it would help stop him from doing something stupid, like getting himself sick, and Virgil had more or less worn it ever since. A storm could strike at any moment, after all. Plus, it was comfortable, sue him.

Not that he was going to admit any of that to Logan. All they got was a shrug and a mumbled, “Maybe.”

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Logan responded, and Virgil didn’t bother trying to correct the truth as they went on, “That alone gave faer away. The stitches to fix it are clearly done by the hand of someone not very experienced but trying their absolute hardest, and the choice of purple is clearly on purpose- very few fae are purple, and none of them live around here. It’s clear that the colouring isn’t symbolic of marking you as any fae’s property.”

“Purple’s also my favorite colour.” Virgil said under his breath, but Logan still caught it.

“See!” They said, as if that alone proved their every point, which, at the very least, it wasn’t exactly hurting them. “It was a thoughtful gift that had a lot of effort put into it. And Remy hates effort.”

Virgil crossed his arms, trying not to look like he was entirely pouting (which he was), “I don’t see why any of this matters.”

Logan just stared at him and blinked, slowly. “Would you like me to literally spell it out for you?”

“I’m not saying I don’t get the point you’re trying to make.” Virgil huffed. “I just don’t see why that point matters.”

“How could it not?”

“Because-” Virgil floundered for a moment, unsure of what exactly to say before he settled on, “Because I don’t love faer?”

Logan blinked again. “How do you expect me to believe you when it doesn’t even sound like you believe yourself?”

Virgil sighed in frustration, rubbing at his temple. “It’s just-” He stopped, sighing again.

Logan’s aloof cockiness fell away as they frowned at Virgil’s dilemma. “It’s just what?” They pushed. “Whatever it is Virgil, I assure you, you can trust me.”

“That’s just it!” Virgil suddenly exclaimed, stifling himself with a glance at the study door the moment he did so. It didn’t look as if it was going to open anytime soon, however, and Virgil went on, albeit quieter, “I don’t trust faer. So it doesn’t matter who-loves-who or who-watches-who when they do stupid things like smile for no reason.”

Logan’s frown deepened. “Why don’t you trust faer?”

Virgil stared at Logan as if they were crazy. “Oh, I don’t know, it might have something to do with the fact that fae’s an immortal fae with incredible powers who I’ve known for barely six months and literally owns my entire name and therefore me. Just maybe.”

“...So?” Logan asked. Virgil didn’t even know his eyes could go as wide as he was certain they did at that response.

“So? So?!” Virgil repeated, more and more incredulously. “I feel like my explanation was pretty self-explanatory.”

Logan clicked their tongue in their mouth. “You do not know how I came to meet Roman and live here, correct?”

Virgil blinked, bewildered by the sudden change in conversation, but he still shook his head in response.

Logan nodded to themself. “I was young, and decidedly an idiot. My town, and people in general, bored me. The tales they told, however, of living shadows in the woods, of their realm of magic and trickery… those were very intriguing.”

“Logan- don’t tell me you-”

“So one night I went into the woods, found a fairy circle,” Logan paused and smiled at Virgil, melancholy, “and I told the first fae to show up that I’d give them my entire name if they, in exchange, took me to their realm.”

Virgil’s eyes somehow found a way to get wider. “Logan, you absolute fool.” He said immediately, getting a laugh from the idiot themself. “A visit to their realm? That was it?! No safety precautions, no ‘and don’t kill me the moment we arrive’s?!”

Logan shook their head. “None. All I cared about was getting there. Far as I was concerned, what happened once I arrived was unimportant.”

“You should be dead.”

“Or in a state wishing I was, yes.” Logan agreed. “But I got  _ extraordinarily  _ lucky.”

“Yeah, I can see that.” Virgil said, still in disbelief.

“Because the fae I traded over my entire name to happened to be very gay.” Logan said with a smile. “He also had a minor moral compass, but that was less a deciding factor of how I ended up so much as it was just another reason to not go down the ‘let’s be awful to this foolish human’ path.”

“You got Roman.” Virgil said, and Logan nodded.

“He treated me much like Remy treats you now.” Logan said, emphasising their words. “Never used my name- though the nicknames he chose to use instead almost made me wish he would’ve-, got me everything I needed or wanted, gave me free roam wherever I wished to go. All because I was pretty.”

“Aw, Lo, are you trying to prove I’m pretty too?”

Logan rolled their eyes. “You didn’t let me finish.”

“Please do, then.”

“All because I was pretty… and because he loved me.”

“Aw, Lo, are you trying to prove I’m pretty and that you love me?”

“I wish I had a light projectile to hurl at you.” Logan answered, Virgil sniggering as they went on, “I believe you are purposefully ignoring my entire point.”

“And what point is that?”

“That this is, aptly named, fairyland. And Roman and Remy are both fae who have our names- or had, in my case-”

“Had?”

“Roman gave me my name back at our wedding.” Logan said with a wave of their hand, continuing on, “My point is, there’s no reason for them to treat us nicely. This is their realm, where treating us… unsympathetically is expected. And with our full names, it wasn’t as if they needed to trick us into giving them anything else.”

“I…” Virgil worried his bottom lip between his teeth. “I’m not sure I completely follow.”

The side of Logan’s mouth quirked up into a smile. “Distrust is not a bad thing to have, especially here. But that doesn’t mean you must cling to it against all evidence.”

Virgil blinked. “Put that in stupid people terms.”

Logan sighed and picked up their book, closing it so that they could lean over and tap its spine against Virgil’s chest, accentuating their words, “Remy loves you. Kiss faer or something. The tension is driving me mad.”

“I’m starting to feel like you just want the tension resolved, and don’t actually care about my happiness.” Virgil joked.

“Well, of course I care about your happiness. You appear to be somewhat smart, and the company of those with at least some wits about them is company I cannot stand to lose.” Logan said, pulling their book back and resting it once more on their lap while they laid their head back, looking at the ceiling. “But this whole matter has got you acting odd, and all my partner wants to talk about is how insufferable his sibling has become. Y’know what we used to do?”

“No clue.”

“We used to read. She’d come over on Mondays and Thursdays and we’d read. Now all we do is complain about you and Remy and occasionally discuss why it’s better to simply swear off romance all together if this is a consequence of its attraction.” Logan groaned and rolled their head to the side, looking beseechingly at Virgil. “I’m tired of it.”

Virgil smirked. “You’re being very dramatic.”

“You’ve met my first husband, have you not?” Logan asked, once more lifting their head. “Compared to him, I’m barely dramatic.”

“Still.” Virgil said, chuckling as Logan’s only response was to once more gesture their book at him.

“You’ve ruined this reading session as well.” Logan pointed out. “You might as well just go home. Confess to faer. Relieve me of your tension.”

“I don’t really think one just goes from not trusting someone to confessing to them that quickly.”

“Then, at the very least, put in some effort to change your situation.” Logan replied. “The sooner the better.”

Virgil raised an eyebrow. “Are you kicking me out of your home?”

“I am, yes. Not that I think you mind much.” Logan said. “Unless you’re going to tell me you’re still terribly invested in your story?”

Virgil glanced at his book, the title of which he was only reading now. “I suppose lying is rude, huh.”

“It is.” Logan confirmed, before making a shooing motion towards the study door. “Now collect your fae and try not to completely ignore faer, if only for my sake.”

Virgil laughed as he stood up, dropping his book on the small table that was sat between their chairs. “I’ll do my best.” He told Logan, who simply re-opened their book with a disbelieving hum.

Virgil approached the study door and knocked on it as he swung it open. Roman and Remy were seated in chairs across the room, both of them leaning over for some reason or another.

Roman stood at the sound of the door opening, briefly obscuring Remy from view. “Virgil!” He said, sounding surprised and… slightly choked up? “May I assist you with something?”

Virgil jerked a thumb behind him. “Your husband’s kicking me out. Is Remy ready to go, too, or are you two still chatting?”

Roman frowned, though it was fond, as he said, “Kicking you out? That simply won’t do!”

“It’s fine, princey, I was getting ready to leave anyways.”

“Princey?”

“Sounds meaner than ‘gentry.’” Virgil explained. “And it’s a close enough comparison.”

“Well, jokes on you, because I like the name.” Roman replied, smugly smiling. “Now, if you will excuse me, I must talk to my husband.”

After saying that, Roman swept past Virgil, calling out, “Logan! What have we said about inhospitality?!”

Logan responded too quietly for Virgil to hear. Roman gasped in insult. “I did not say it was encouraged!! I said to not get caught doing it!!” 

Virgil chuckled as Roman fully walked away, most likely going to drop himself in Logan’s lap and pretend to berate them between kisses. He turned towards Remy, expecting faer to be smirking, some sort of snark already on the tip of faer tongue.

Instead, Remy seemed subdued, hastily wiping a hand over faer face and shoving faer sunglasses further up on faer nose, completely covering faer eyes. Fae smiled up at Virgil, but it seemed fake. Put on.

“You ready to go?” Fae asked, which seemed redundant given the reason why Virgil had entered the room in the first place, but he let it pass, choosing to frown instead.

“Are you alright?” He said instead of answering, beginning to walk over to Remy. Before he could get very close, however, fae was standing up and coming over to Virgil, fake smile growing in size and insincerity.

“Is there a reason for me not to be?” Fae asked as fae reached Virgil, stopping for just a moment to direct that horrible fake smile especially at Virgil before continuing past him and out the door.

Virgil hurried to keep up with faer, his frown having only grown. “I don’t know, is there?”

Remy shrugged in response, and Virgil huffed, putting on an extra burst of speed so that he ended up in front of Remy, blocking faer from leaving. He crossed his arms.

“Something’s wrong.” Virgil stated plainly. “You’re acting… off.”

“I’m not certain what you mean.” Remy replied, still smiling, though at the very least it had weakened now. Virgil hated that for all the truth fae was forced to speak, fae could still lie with a false smile.

“Alright, then, what do you think I mean?” Virgil asked, raising an eyebrow when Remy uncomfortably tugged at faer collar.

“I think… that you mean you think something is not alright with me.” Remy said slowly.

Virgil sighed. “Close enough, I guess.” He said, though he was still unsatisfied. “Are you going to tell me why you look like someone I should be worried about?”

“Nope.”

“Super.” Virgil deadpanned. He sat in silence for a moment, Remy making no move to do anything faerself. Finally, Virgil sighed again.

“Are you really gonna make me do this the hard way?” He asked.

Remy raised an eyebrow, just high enough to go over faer sunglasses. “I think so?”

“Alright. You asked for it.” Virgil said, shrugging before he reached out and snagged one of Remy’s hands. Fae looked up, shocked, but Virgil didn’t let go, instead simply meeting Remy’s stare.

“Why- why are you-” Remy shook faer head. “Let go.”

Instinctively, Virgil’s grip loosened, and he almost let go of Remy, the familiarly cold feel of fear running through his veins returning to him. But before he could, he thought back to what Patton and Logan had said, and, biting down on his tongue, he forced the fear back.

“I don’t think I will.” He responded, once more tightening his grip on Remy’s hand, still staring at faer. “Unless you really want me to let go, in which case… you can always make me.”

Remy’s eyes widened immediately. “I would never.” Fae said, vehemently.

“Then tell me what’s wrong.”

“Nothing’s-” Remy choked on faer own words, free hand coming up to faer throat, grasping at it for a moment before coughing, hard, and beginning again, “I am well enough to function normally.”

“Oh, yeah, because choking on your own reassurance when you’re a creature who can’t finish lies is real reassuring.” Virgil said, sarcasm dripping from his tone as he lifted their joined hands, putting them in plain view of Remy. “Last chance. Tell me, or we go home hand-in-hand.”

Remy didn’t respond straight-away, looking between Virgil and their joined hands in thought, frowning. Finally, fae sighed.

“Whatever you want.” Remy said defeatedly. Virgil frowned at that, but it was fleeting, and he quickly replaced with with a smirk.

“Alright then.” Virgil said cheerily, pulling open the door behind him before pulling him and Remy through. “Away we go.”

And, sure, the walk back was awkward, Remy refusing to look at Virgil for the majority of it, having given up on faking a smile but not on avoiding telling the truth. But Virgil made it with Remy’s hand in his, and for some reason, that made it at least a little okay.

Maybe, just maybe, it was okay to have just a little bit of trust.


	9. Secrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Virgil's tired of ignoring the issue

Ironic, Virgil decided, that as soon as he realized a bit of trust might not be that bad, Remy decided that it would be absolutely revolting.

Of course, Remy didn’t exactly ghost from Virgil’s life entirely. They were still there, still interacted with Virgil when they crossed paths, still smirked and snarked and laughed with him. But it felt… off, now. Smiles that didn’t feel fully genuine. Jokes weren’t told with the same excitement. Perhaps most obviously and, to Virgil, most painful was the significant drop-off in the use of nicknames.

Remy was pulling away, that much was clear. What wasn’t clear was  _ why _ .

Had it been something Virgil had done? Had his newfound willingness to actually interact with Remy thrown them off? Or was it something else, some factor Virgil didn’t know about, something that was causing Remy to isolate themself from Virgil for no damn reason?

Virgil determined quickly enough it wasn’t him, finding that when he changed his levels of activity and interaction Remy didn’t react much outside of becoming more or less concerned for his well-being. So, with that out of the way, there was only one option: something had changed, something that had convinced Remy they should pull away from Virgil.

And Virgil wanted to know what that ‘something’ was.

Virgil had tried asking Remy about it repeatedly, but for a creature who couldn’t lie, they were damn good at avoiding the truth. At the very least, they had given up pretending they didn’t have a problem- they just wouldn’t tell Virgil what it was.

So, after trying directly asking, indirectly asking, and just skipping over the source entirely (neither Deceit nor The Gays had a clue… or so they claimed, at least), Virgil was left with no choice but to resort to drastic measures.

It was Thursday when Virgil enacted his plan, Deceit off with Logan, therefore leaving the house empty barring himself and Remy. Remy had tried to convince Virgil to go with Deceit and hang out with The Gays as well, but upon Virgil’s steadfast refusal, they had given up and settled down in the living room, lounging on the couch and doing nothing else.

Virgil waited a couple of minutes to be completely sure that Deceit had truly left and wouldn’t be coming back for anything before confronting Remy. While he was fairly certain Deceit would take his side of the whole thing, he didn’t want to risk it.

Once he was fully certain they’d be completely alone for the next hour or so, Virgil left his room and approached Remy. The fae looked up at Virgil as he came up to them, throwing on another one of those barely-real smiles.

“Heya, su- you.” Remy corrected, catching themself before they could finish the nickname. “Can I help you with something?”

“We need to talk.” Virgil stated, making it clear it wasn’t a request. “About you.”

Remy smirked. “About me? You’re gonna have to be more specific- there’s a lot of me worthy of being talked about.”

“It’s about why you’ve been acting off recently.”

Remy’s smirk fell into a frown. “I thought we already discussed this.”

Virgil scoffed. “No,  _ I’ve _ tried to discuss, and you’ve been very good at not contributing to that discussion at all.”

“I’m sure that’s close enough to be the same.” Remy responded, though even they didn’t sound convinced.

“Uh huh.” Virgil hummed, unconvinced. “But those ‘talks’ aside, we’re having one right here and right now. And I’m not leaving til I figure out what’s got you acting so funny.”

“I can sit in dead silence for as long as I need to.” Remy responded.

“Well, so can I.” Virgil seconded, taking a seat at the end of the couch as he did so.

Remy raised a high eyebrow. “No you can’t. You need to eat and sleep and do mortal stuff.”

“And I need to figure out what’s up with you more.” Virgil told them, crossing his arms. “So I’m not going to do any of that stuff until you give me an answer.”

Remy’s frown deepened, and a crease appeared in their forehead. “That’s not healthy, babe; you shouldn’t do that.”

Virgil didn’t make an effort to move. “You’re right. I shouldn’t. But I’m going to, because I know that that seems to be the only thing I can consistently count on you for.”

“And what’s that?”

“Making sure I’m okay.” Virgil answered, tone softening. “You clearly care about my well-being, Remy, and I want to know why you’re trying to isolate yourself from me.”

“I’m not-” Remy paused, coughed, and started again. “Why would I do that?”

“I don’t know! That’s why I’m asking you!”

“Then ask someone else.” Remy replied petulantly.

“I did! I’ve asked everyone, and they either don’t know or are also hiding the answer from me!” Virgil said. Remy didn’t say anything in response, and Virgil sighed, preparing to once more beseech them for the truth when Remy beat him to it with a mumbled,

“Why do you care?”

“Why do I-” Virgil frowned. “Why wouldn’t I? We’ve been living together for about eight months now, and then suddenly, out of nowhere, you started to act… wrong. Why wouldn’t I care about that?”

“Because you don’t trust me.” Remy answered, easily and almost a little bitterly. “And I don’t blame you- I wouldn’t trust me either- but that’s the truth of the matter. You should be… you should be glad I’m around less. It’s safer for you.”

Virgil let out a little huff. “That’s the reason you’ve been trying to avoid me?”

“Eh… partly.”

Virgil raised an eyebrow at that before saying, “Then you’re partly an idiot.”

“Thanks, I try.” Remy responded dryly.

Virgil rolled his eyes. “Why do you think it’s safer for me if you’re around less?”

Remy looked at Virgil over their shades as if he was crazy. “I find it hard to believe the whole ‘has your name’ thing slipped your mind.”

“It hasn’t, don’t worry.” Virgil assured Remy.

“Then, uh… shouldn’t the answer you’re looking for be clear?”

“The fact that you have my name doesn’t make you any more or less dangerous to be around.” Virgil said.

Remy blinked at him once. Twice. Thrice. They slid their sunglasses back over their eyes. “Gurl, you are definitely crazy.”

Virgil smiled, if only because that was the most genuine snark he had heard in days. “That doesn’t disprove my point.”

“I don’t think you can even  _ prove _ your point, much less refute it.”

“I can prove my point.” Virgil protested.

Remy waved with their hand. “Then, please, do so.”

“It’s simple.” Virgil said easily, settling into the couch cushions. “Tell me to go.”

“Go.”

Virgil side-eyed Remy. “You know what I meant.”

“I really don’t.” Remy replied, looking serious. Virgil sighed.

“Tell me to go using my name.”

Remy reacted to that, jerking into a sitting position. “What?!”

“You heard me.” Virgil told them before going on, “You want me to leave, make me leave. You want me to eat, make me eat. You don’t want to talk about this, then make me shut up!”

Remy stared at Virgil for a moment, expression unreadable, and for that brief moment Virgil panicked, wondering if he had made the wrong bet, if Remy really would ‘make him shut up’ now that the option had been pointed out to them.

But the moment passed, and Remy said, softly, “I already told you. I won’t do that to you.”

“Then what’s the danger?” Virgil asked, just as softly. “There’s no danger in a weapon no one will use.”

“I could change my mind, one day.” Remy offered weakly, but Virgil just shook his head.

“I know you won’t.” He said confidently.

Remy shook their head. “You can’t know that. That would take…”

“Trust?” Virgil finished for them. Remy didn’t respond, but Virgil knew he was right. Virgil didn’t speak again at first, thinking instead, Remy doing little more than tapping their fingers against their leg as they waited for him to continue.

“Before we met,” Virgil began, slowly, biting his lip before he continued, “I was attacked by a family of witches.”

Remy frowned. “What are you-”

“You wanted trust, right?” Virgil asked, cutting them off. “This is trust.”

Remy remained frowning, but they didn’t try to say anything else. Virgil took a breath.

“I haven’t had a home in… in a long time. I wandered from place to place. They offered me a meal and shelter for the night.” Virgl curled his hands into fists at the thought, digging his nails into his palms. “It was a bad offer, and I should have seen that immediately. But I didn’t, and I took them up on it.

“They attacked me during dinner. They kept bustling by me to get dishes and such, I got used to it, stopped looking every time one of them went by me. That was my mistake.” Virgil winced at the memory. “One of them started to pass me, and before I knew it they were shoving my chair back, pressing their palms against my eyes, muttering something witch-y, I don’t know. All I knew was that suddenly my eyes were burning, though it felt like it was less them and something trying to come out of them-”

Virgil cut himself off to suck in a sharp breath, the pain beneath his eyes flaring suddenly. He uncurled his fists only to press his fingers against the stains, hoping the pressure would relieve at least some of the pain. He flinched when he felt a weight on his shoulder, but settled when he looked over and saw that it was just Remy, who had moved forward to rest their hand on his shoulder, the pressure and warmth familiar and grounding. Virgil offered them a small smile.

“I’m alright.” He said, a bit shaky as he lowered his hands from his face, splaying them out on his legs instead. Remy didn’t remove their hand, however, and Virgil was thankful for that.

“I-I didn’t know what was happening.” He went on. “But it hurt so much… I don’t know how I got out of there, but in my panic, I did. I ran to the nearest town, begging everyone I saw for assistance…”

When Virgil trailed off, Remy lightly shook his shoulder, their tone concerned as they asked, “But?”

Virgl took another deep breath. “But no one would help me.” He admitted, quietly, almost ashamed of the fact. “The family of witches found me running around the town square, cries falling on deaf ears even as they dragged me away.”

Remy’s grip on Virgil suddenly tightened, and for a moment Virgil didn’t know why, trying to figure out what part of his story might have upset them when he realized that the action was protective. Protective… and angry. But not at Virgil.

“It was probably my appearance.” Virgil said, answering the question Remy hadn’t asked, even though Virgil knew they were thinking about it. “I don’t think the townspeople wanted me hurt, they just… didn’t want to help me. I mean, would you help me?” Virgil asked, vaguely gesturing at his stains.

“In a heartbeat.” Remy answered immediately. Virgil half-shrugged.

“It doesn’t matter. They didn’t help then, and I ended up back with the witches.”

“How long?” Remy asked, voice sounding measured.

Virgil half-shrugged again. “I’m… not entirely sure. I want to say a week, but… they kept me in their cellar. The windows were covered, so I never knew what time of day it was. And they didn’t exactly keep to a steadfast three meals a day schedule, either.” Virgil paused, giving Remy a chance to say something, continuing on when they didn’t,

“Eventually, I got enough of my wits about me to wait for them to come down and jump them.” Virgil explained. “I slipped past whoever came in and just- just ran for the woods. I had passed through them before I came to the home of the witches, and I had seen the glimmers between the leaves, the circles in the surprisingly empty clearings. I knew fae lived there.”

“And you threw yourself into one of the rings… desperate, because you knew it was your only chance…” Remy said slowly, and Virgil nodded.

“The town wouldn’t help me, and I knew I couldn’t outrun them.” Virgil said, pulling his arms around him, hugging himself as he remembered that night, remembered stumbling but refusing to let himself completely fall, because if he did that he might never get back up; remembered hearing shouts behind him getting steadily closer; remembered begging senselessly, knowing he’d give anything to not see what would happen to him if he didn’t get away this time, and giving it all away in one go.

But then the hand on his shoulder squeezed comfortingly and Virgil remembered further, past the fear, remembered a beautiful being regardless of how fearsome they were, remembered a worried look in their eyes and a soft touch on his face and a gentle command.

“That’s why I came to the fae. And that’s how I got these stains.” Virgil said quietly. “I know you wanted to know from the beginning, but I didn’t want you too. I didn’t want anyone too. I didn’t know what you would’ve done with the information, but I didn’t want to find out, so… I never told you.”

Virgil shifted a bit so that he was looking more at Remy, placing his hand over the one Remy had left on his shoulder. “And I still don’t know what you’re going to do with it. But what matters is that I trust you with it. I trust you to not hurt me with it.”

For a moment, Remy didn’t respond, the silence stretching as Virgil watched them, waiting for a proper reaction. Finally, Remy let out a breath; slowly, controlled. They lifted Virgil’s hand off of theirs before taking their own back and standing.

“Thank you for sharing this with me.” Remy said as Virgil watched them, confused. “I’m… touched that you felt comfortable enough to tell me that. Truly.” They offered Virgil a smile after that, small but genuine.

“Of course.” Virgil responded. “Like I said. I trust you.”

Remy nodded to themself once. “Yes… I’m sorry, hun, but you’re going to have to excuse me for a second. I just realized there’s something I forget to… take care of. I’ll be back soon.”

Before Virgil could say another word, Remy was gone, seemingly having just vanished into the world around them. Virgil blinked at the now empty space in front of him a few times before sighing.

The plan to figure out what Remy’s problem was had only dug up his own. An outstanding move, if he did say so himself.


	10. Eternity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remy returns

Remy was gone for roughly two hours. Virgil filled the time waiting for them to return by thinking about their conversation over and over again and trying to find the point that had spurred their departure, which was a fun and certainly not fruitless task.

Deceit arrived around the hour mark, having concluded his ‘reading’ session with Logan. When she learned, however, that Remy was gone after Virgil had tried to talk to them, he excused herself, citing that he was fairly certain she had left a book at The Gays’ house.

Virgil was just happy to know _ someone _ was fully discussing what was going on between him and Remy. It was just a shame, really, that that ‘someone’ was neither himself nor Remy.

It was just at the two hour mark that Virgil decided Remy had actually left forever and Virgil would never ever see them again. He was a good ten minutes into wondering if he could use Remy’s pronoun cloth to track the fae when he heard water running in the kitchen.

Virgil immediately got up from his seat and headed towards the sound. He knew it practically had to be Remy before he arrived, but he still smiled when he saw the familiar leather back and pink glow.

As he got further into the kitchen, however, Virgil was able to see Remy’s hands as they washed them. The water turned red as it rushed off their hands, which themselves were stained a drying crimson.

Blood.

Virgil raised an eyebrow as he settled against the counter next to Remy, who seemed to be doing their best to ignore Virgil. “Someone in your ring?” Virgil asked, hoping he sounded casual.

Remy shook their head, gaze still focused on their hands. “You’re the first mortal I’ve seen in my ring in months, maybe years; I wouldn’t have another so soon. And I send most of those fools into the forest forever, nothing so… hands on.”

“Alright.” Virgil replied, trying to read Remy’s expression as they went back to silently washing their hands. Even though their sunglasses were missing, however, their expression was unreadable, eyes bright despite the seeming lack of emotion in them. “So what’s your reason for being literally caught red-handed?”

Remy didn’t respond, but their gaze darted over to Virgil, and that was all the answer he needed.

His eyes widened. “Wait... don’t tell me you-”

“They came to the sound of your voice.” Remy cut Virgil off as they turned off the sink, carelessly wiping their hands dry on their jeans. “I mimicked your voice and cried out on the farmlands, between the town and the forest, and I retreated back to the forest still yelling for help.”

Remy paused for a moment, glancing at Virgil, waiting for him to stop them. But Virgil didn’t say a word, and Remy went on,

“People came, soon enough. I recognized nearly all of them from the night we met. And the ones I didn’t recognize I still knew. Knew they were part of the group anyways.”

“How’d you know?” Virgil asked when Remy stopped, looking away from Virgil to glare at the floor, one of their hands curling into a tight fist.

“They came bearing weapons.” Remy answered tightly, their tone suddenly sharp with anger. “They heard what they believed to be the cries of someone in need of help and because they thought it was  _ you _ who needed help, they came with pitchforks and fire and cruel mortal magic.”

Virgil looked down as well as Remy spoke. “Oh.” He said quietly. He didn’t know why he was surprised to learn that- he didn’t exactly expect those witches to help if they heard him calling- but something about them hearing what they believe to be his cries, and coming armed to the teeth, unabashedly aggressive… a small shiver ran down his spine.

He had never been more thankful that his foolish plea had been answered that day.

“What did you… What did you do?” Virgil asked, still quiet.

Remy set their shoulders before responding, “They were in my area of forest. Given, none of them stepped within my circle, but still… they were close. I’m powerful. I don’t think more needs to be said.”

Virgil nodded slowly. “Why’d you do it?”

“Huh?”

“Why’d you do it?” Virgil repeated, now looking back over at Remy, who similarly had looked up at Virgil. “I mean, they deserved it, sure, but… I’m safe here. They couldn’t get me anyways. What did it matter?”

Remy smiled at that, expression shifting from fiery anger to melancholy. “Oh, right. That.”

Virgil raised an eyebrow in confusion as Remy straightened in place a bit, looking Virgil directly in the eyes as they said, “Virgil Valentine Wylde,” They started, and Virgil felt as if he had frozen, just like when he had first woken up in fairyland, his every muscle tense and ready to do something- anything that next came out of Remy’s mouth-

“I give you back this name.” Remy finished, and Virgil relaxed immediately, feeling oddly… free. “It is once more yours, and I hold no claim over it, nor do I hold any over you.”

“I-” Virgil blinked at Remy, his confusion having only grown. “Why did you…?”

“Virgil,” Virgil flinched at his name, and Remy bit their lip, “Sorry. I’ll try not to do that, it’s just… nice to be able to say it.”

“It’s fine.” Virgil said, waving Remy’s apology off. “I just want to know why it’s mine again.”

“You came here to escape those witches. But now that they’re… taken care of, the entire purpose for your deal is null. I don’t see any reason to keep your name.” Remy said by explanation, adding, “And I don’t want to keep it anyways.”

“So… what now, then? Do I go back to the mortal world?” Virgil asked, trying to keep the edge of panic out of his voice. He didn’t want to go back, crazy family of witches or no. He wanted to stay here. He wanted to be home.

Remy shrugged. “You’re welcome to stay here if you wish. But whenever you’re ready to return to your own realm…”

Virgil’s panicked thoughts shut up when they heard that, his attention once more on Remy as he frowned. “You… Do you think I want to go back to the mortal realm?”

“Why wouldn’t you?” Remy asked in response. “It’s your realm, and the monsters that ran you out of it are gone now.”

“You think I want to go back.” Virgil mumbled, low enough that Remy couldn’t hear it. He didn’t say anything else for a minute, thinking something over instead while Remy waited patiently for him to make a decision. Finally, Virgil spoke once more, saying, “Remy… can I ask you for a favor?”

“Anything I can offer you, I offer freely.”

Before he could give himself even a moment to reconsider, Virgil’s hands shot out the moment Remy said yes, catching the other’s hands in his own. He pulled them against his face, forcing Remy to bend over a bit to allow Virgil to plant them over the black stains that still lived beneath his eyes. They burned at the contact, but Virgil ignored the pain.

“Remove my stains.” He said, smiling at the uncertainty in Remy’s eyes at the request. “I give you my permission to remove them. Please.”

“But… but I thought you wanted to keep them?” Remy said, uneasily.

“I did.” Virgil confirmed. “Because I was worried if I didn’t have some way to remember how awful the world I ran from was, I’d go back there if things turned sour here. But I don’t need them for that anymore. You know why?”

“Because the people who hurt you are gone?” Remy offered, though they didn’t sound entirely convinced. Virgil chuckled.

“Nah, though that was a nice touch.” He answered. “I don’t need them anymore because I know I’ll never try to go back.”

“You won’t- what?”

“You heard me.” Virgil said, smile softening. “Back in the mortal world, I was a wanderer. A drifter. Those witches were just the worst in a long line of people who had hurt me. You’re right when you say the mortal realm is my realm, but that doesn’t mean I want to go back. It’s better here… with people I love.”

Remy seemed to stop at that, their entire expression seeming to freeze as they processed Virgil’s words. Virgil just kept smiling, waiting for them to react. Soon enough, Remy did, blinking a few times and shaking their head a bit before saying, “Alright, sweetheart. I’ll remove the stains.”

They pressed their hands slightly firmer against Virgil’s face, the burning sensation increasing as they did so, but Virgil didn’t mind it. He did, however, mind when the burn turned from a painful but constant ache into a flare of agony, and he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block it out until…

It was gone. The pain was replaced by a cool feeling, almost numb. Virgil opened his eyes, surprised when the pull of his eyelids moving didn’t immediately cause the stains to burn.

Remy lifted their hands just a little, looking at where the stains had been. They frowned a little. “There’s still some markings there; faded, but there. Probably from how long you had them. Do they still hurt?”

Virgil blinked a few more times to test them, the cool relief that had immediately followed Remy’s magic ebbing away, leaving a dull ache in its place. “Yes.” He answered, his little smile returning. “But just barely.”

Remy smiled back at him before making to remove their hands from Virgil’s face fully. Virgil’s hands, which had let go of Remy when the pain flared, shot up to grab Remy’s wrists once more, forcing them to stay put, though they may have slid down just a bit, moving from directly underneath Virgil’s eyes to his cheeks instead.

“I think you’re forgetting something.” Virgil said, smile morphing into a smirk.

“Am I?” Remy asked, genuinely unsure, and Virgil laughed.

“Don’t be oblivious.” He told them. “I’m not Patton, I don’t have five years of patience. Especially not for obliviousness.”

Remy’s eyes widened at that, Virgil’s point suddenly clear to them. “I- Uh- we- that’s a bad idea.”

Virgil rolled his eyes and tugged Remy closer. “Do you want to kiss me?” He asked.

Remy just spluttered more. “I- ah- yes. Yeah, I’d- yeah.”

Virgil grinned. “Then I think it’s a great idea.”

And with that, Virgil tugged Remy closer once more, the fae stumbling a bit at the force of it, unable to stop themself before they were at the perfect range for Virgil to lean in just a little and kiss them.

It was awkward at first; Remy so shocked by the development that was Virgil’s lips on theirs they just stood there, stiff as a board. But the shock passed quickly enough, Remy leaning into it and actively holding Virgil’s face, allowing Virgil to stop trying to restrain them, his hands looping behind Remy’s neck, keeping them close to him.

Virgil didn’t want to stop kissing Remy, didn’t want to stop tasting the honey on Remy’s lips, didn’t want to lose the steadying warmth of them against him, didn’t want the moment to end. Despite that, however, he eventually had to pull back for a breath, though he only did by a smidge, his lips still brushing Remy’s.

“I love you.” He whispered it, but in the empty house it was deafening. Remy smirked.

“Sugar,  _ everyone _ loves me.” Remy answered playfully.

Virgil lightly hit the back of Remy’s neck even as he smiled. “You’re ruining the moment.” He berated heatlessly. “Do you love me too?”

Remy’s smirk broke into a grin, one that was so happy, so free, so alive Virgil wanted to see it forever. “More than anything.” They promised. “More than flowers and stars and raindrops; I love you.”

Virgil’s smile grew to match Remy’s, feeling the faintest bit giddy at their words and promises, talk of his past and the dull pain still beneath his eyes forgotten, leaving him with nothing but the desire to hold Remy forever.

“If you love me,” Virgil started, locking his arms behind Remy’s neck and leaning his forehead against theirs, looking into their eyes and seeing nothing but an adoring sort of joy that made him feel like he could fly, “kiss me again.”

Remy just smiled back at Virgil, one hand slipping away from his face to wrap around his back, pulling Virgil closer to them, their hold warm and comforting and secure as they happily obliged Virgil’s request.

Maybe they couldn’t kiss for eternity. But they could love each other for that long, and that was more than enough.


End file.
